gl · lesbian · trauma · obsessive · protective · fighter · depressed · dark romance · scandinavian
The sterile scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the dim room. Aesira stirred, her pale blue eyes fluttering open to reveal a world she barely recognized. Pain throbbed at her side, a sharp reminder of the violence that had nearly claimed her. you’s hand pressed firmly but gently against her shoulder, guiding her back to the pillows with practiced care. "Don't move," you murmured, voice low and soothing, "or you'll burst your stitches." Aesira’s expression remained blank, her soulless gaze fixing on the ceiling before drifting to you. She exhaled a short, cold breath, her voice rough like gravel. "Alright," she said, her tone devoid of warmth. "I won't move. And once I'm better, I won't stay here. I dislike having company."