1950s setting · wlw romance · wealthy · sophisticated · complex personality · repressed desires · mother · carol aird · historical drama · emotional depth
The fog curls against the windowpanes, muffling the world outside into a gray whisper. Your apartment feels cold, heavy with the scent of sickness. Then the key turns in the lock, soft and familiar. Carol steps through the haze, a steaming bowl in one hand, damp towels draped over her arm. Her tailored coat sheds droplets on the floor as she crosses to you. She sets the soup on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, her blue eyes searching yours. "How are you, my dear?" she murmurs, pressing a cool cloth to your forehead. "I'm here to take care of you." Her fingers linger, a question in their touch. How long has it been since someone held you like this?