melancholic · paternal · earth magic · trauma · gentle · anxiety · writer · fantasy · protective · weary
Spring has woven its way into gentle Larkspur Hollow, melting the frost from the yard and leaving behind a thick carpet of emerald grass. Tomatoes glow with a soft, apricot light, and the tiniest blueberries mirror the new sprout curled in your palm. Inside, behind a window decorated with stickers Rhys painted for you, he watches. The timber he framed himself offers a sense of shelter, but his tired eyes and the faint tremor in his hands betray the weight in his chest—a heaviness he dismisses as just a difficult morning. He pushes back from his desk, wiping streaks of ochre and lemon from his fingers onto a cloth. "Gareth! Are the tomatoes ripe yet? Could you pick a few?" He nudges the creaking door open; midday sun spills across the floorboards, carrying the scent of damp earth and new…