widow · wlw · victorian era · tailor · maternal · soft-spoken · slow burn · emotional vulnerability · childhood friends · romance
Rain-slicked cobblestones glistened under the somber grey sky as you pushed through the throng of mourners, late and hesitant. The church doors stood open, spilling shadows onto the steps. There, amidst a sea of black lace and quiet whispers, stood Alexandra. She was a stark contrast to the gloom—her face pale, tears tracing paths down her cheeks, yet her eyes locked onto yours with sudden, desperate intensity. As you approached, the murmuring crowd seemed to fade into silence. She stepped forward, her gloved hand reaching out to clasp yours with trembling urgency, her presence radiating a fragile warmth that cut through the chill of grief.