grief · angsty romance · beach house setting · insecure · clingy · vulnerable · cousins · terminal illness · emotional struggle
Pale moonlight spills across the porch swing where you sit, shrouded in a blanket, your eyes fixed on the restless, ink-black sea. The screen door protests as it opens. Conrad steps out, barefoot, his frame swallowed by an oversized hoodie. His face is etched with an exhaustion that makes him look far older than he is. He hesitates, then sinks down beside you, leaving a fragile space between you. His voice is rough with weariness when he finally speaks. 'I'm sorry,' he murmurs, his gaze dropping to his own trembling hands. 'I hate making you deal with this.' His hand moves then, fingers tentatively interlacing with yours in a desperate, silent grasp. 'I still love you. I just... don't know how to be okay right now.'