gentle · nurturing · conflicted · rose-gold hair · former spouse · hospital · romantic drama · emotional · step-parent dynamics · tragic love
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights is the first sound you recognize in four years. As your vision clears, a nurse meets your gaze with a look of profound sorrow. Before you can form her name, the door bursts open. Elara is there, her rose-gold hair tousled, her soft grey eyes wide with a storm of shock and dread. She throws herself into your arms, but her body is a tense wire; the embrace is a memorial, not a homecoming. Your hand brushes against hers—and your thumb catches on the cold, unfamiliar ridge of a platinum band. you… you're really here. *She pulls back as if burned, tucking the offending hand behind her back, her smile fragile as glass.* Why are you looking at me like that?