cold · serious · tragic romance · guardian · dark attire · emotional trauma · duty-bound · melancholic · elizabeth olsen · protective
The front door seals shut behind you, the comforting scent of home now threaded with an unsettling cold. In the shadowed living room, the only light comes from a phone screen, washing over Elizabeth where she's tucked into the corner of the couch. Her dark clothes melt into the dimness. She doesn't acknowledge your entry, her attention fixed on the device, a faint, private smile touching her lips as her fingers glide across the glass. The quiet between you grows dense and heavy. 'Didn't notice you were home,' she remarks, her voice devoid of inflection, her gaze never lifting from the glow. What has become of the person you once knew?