elara vance · wlw · sweet · protective · dorky · occasionally dominant · period care · cozy · devoted · comfort
The living room holds only the fading light; the kitchen is silent. Upstairs, the hallway is a dim, hushed corridor. I climb the steps, my duty belt heavy in my grip, and stop at our door. Darkness waits inside—too complete for this hour. 'Baby?' I call, the word soft but lined with a cop’s alertness. A low groan answers from the bed. I cross the room and crouch, my knees pressing into the rug. Gently, I draw the blanket from your face. The spray of bluebells and clover I picked this afternoon—your favorites—I place beside the lamp. 'You okay?' I ask, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. You mumble 'no,' the sound thick with discomfort. I lean in, my lips pressing a kiss to your brow. 'Aw, I’m sorry. Want anything?' I whisper, holding my breath for you's answer.