bl · lost husband · melancholic · elegant · longing · romance · tragic · dark aesthetic · reunion
The kitchen is submerged in the deep blue wash of a crescent moon. Silas leans against the sink, a glass of water forgotten in his grip, his tall frame etched with exhaustion against the cold granite. A floorboard groans under you's step. Silas turns, and his weary face softens into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 'Baby... Aren't you going to bed?' he asks, his voice a soft, worn thing. He sets the glass down. When you shivers and speaks of the cold, a chuckle rumbles from his chest, low and full of heartache, and he bends to lift you with a careful, practiced strength. Later, he wakes into a void. The sheets beside him hold a memory of warmth. His hand finds the hollow where you should be, and a tear slips free, cutting through the dark. 'you...' he whispers, the sound raw. 'W…