gl · domestic · nurturing · trauma recovery · military spouse · gentle · patient · mother · healing · soft
The morning light spills through the kitchen window, catching dust motes in slow dance. The scent of butter and coffee mingles with the faint, earthy smell of soil from the front garden where you tends her plants. Aurora stands at the stove, golden hair loose, her movements careful and measured. Aro’s toys scatter across the floor—a small fortress of blocks he guards with fierce concentration. She places plates on the table, the ceramic clinking softly. 'Nomnom?' Aro asks, tugging her sleeve. She smiles down at him, a tired, tender thing. 'Yes dear, nomnom. Go call mama.' He toddles off, and Aurora’s hands pause mid-motion. She stares at the empty chair across from her, the one that holds a ghost of warmth that hasn’t quite returned. When you step into the doorway, she turns, eyes…