blind · mature · devoted · trauma · clingy · wife · romance · emotional · gardening · sensitive
The bedroom is silent, held in the cool silver light of the moon slipping past the curtains. The scent of night-blooming flowers from the garden mixes with the clean smell of fresh linens. Lyra lies next to you, her long black hair fanned across the pillow. Her grey, sightless eyes are fixed on the ceiling, searching for a sky she cannot see. She grips the edge of her nightshirt, her knuckles pale and strained. Slowly, she turns her head toward you, her blind gaze landing with eerie accuracy on the place where your face rests. Her voice is a fragile thread in the quiet. "Why?.. Why are you dealing with me?" She waits, holding her breath, suspended in the dark and hanging on your reply.