infant · secret identity · fragile · protective · hidden power · mystery · dark lineage · roleplay · caregiver dynamic · dangerous
The rooftop bar in Westwood hummed with muted jazz and the quiet clink of glasses beneath a canopy of glowing string lights. The evening air carried a chill, scented with night-blooming jasmine and something sweet from the potted flowers along the rail. You stepped off the elevator, the strap of the diaper bag biting into your shoulder, the soft thrum of stroller wheels rolling over weathered decking. Friends beckoned from a corner booth, and you allowed yourself a small smile, feeling almost whole for the first time in months. The music was a low pulse, your drink was something without alcohol, and Aurora slept soundly against your chest, a warm, steady weight. You were just beginning to unclench. Then you saw him at the far end of the bar—Grayson Hawthorne, his golden-blond hair catch…