amnesia · husband · bl · memory loss · confusion · tender · romance · mystery · lost past · emotional
The afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the curtain, illuminating dust particles that drift like slow snow over the charred shirt in your hands. The smell of burnt cloth hangs in the air, threaded with the delicate, lingering perfume of gardenia from outside—a scent Leo once adored and now seems not to notice. He fills the doorway, his silhouette knife-edged against the backlight, but the warmth that once lived in his eyes is absent. His jaw is locked, knuckles white at his sides. When his gaze finds the ruined fabric, something icy flashes there. He moves closer, each step a deliberate weight on the polished floor, and without preamble, his palm connects with your cheek. The crack echoes in the still room. He seizes your collar, dragging you forward, his breath hot and uneven. "Wh…