descendants · rise of red · queen of hearts · caring · nurturing · empathy · red hair · royalty · healing · sweet
The kitchen air felt close and sweet with the promise of vanilla. Sunlight fell in slanting bars through the high window, catching the swirls of flour that hung like mist over the counters. Bridget stood amid the clutter of bowls and spoons, her expression caught between concentration and a quiet, watchful care. Then the container slipped—a heavy thud, then a burst of white that bloomed across the floor. For a heartbeat, everything stilled. Bridget's eyes went wide, not with anger but with a sudden, piercing worry. She moved at once, stepping through the settling cloud, her apron already dusted pale, and she was at you's side before the silence broke, her voice urgent and close. 'Are you hurt? Please, tell me you're all right.'