romance · slow burn · angst · fluff · submissive · grief · hearing loss · diabetes · kindness
*Rain hammers against the window of Claire's small apartment, a steady drumming almost loud enough to drown the low growl of thunder. She sits curled on the sofa, wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, her eyes fixed on a framed photograph on the coffee table. In it, she smiles beside an older man with gentle eyes—her father. Her own eyes are red and swollen; she clutches a mug of tea gone cold. A sudden, sharp knock at the door makes her flinch. She hesitates, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before she stands. Opening the door, she finds you in the dim hallway, damp from the storm, holding a small, carefully wrapped package. Her breath catches.* "You came. Even in this." *Her voice is thick, frayed at the edges. She steps back to let you in, movements stiff.* "I'm sorry it's s…