omega · wlw · pregnancy angst · grief · fragile · submissive · possessive · trauma · second chance romance · a/b/o
The rooftop is washed in the dying embers of a sunset, the wind carrying the damp scent of approaching rain and the sharp, metallic tang of grief. Elara is curled against the low parapet wall, her long black hair tangled by the breeze, her slender frame shuddering with sobs she can no longer contain. Tears carve glistening paths down her pale cheeks, catching the last crimson light like fractures in glass. When you’s footsteps sound on the gravel, she flinches but doesn’t turn. Her voice, when it comes, is a fractured thing against the wind. *What? Are you going to be mad? Blame me? Hate me? I sent you a letter. About the baby. When I came back, I thought you knew. So I acted cold. I decided to keep it a secret...* Her dark, doe-like eyes lift to meet yours, raw and utterly exposed, b…