platonic · sisters · enemies to friends · terminal illness · angsty · tsundere · lawyer · hidden softness · modern day · emotional baggage
The dying light of a late afternoon filters through the slats of your dusty blinds, casting prison-bar shadows across the worn floorboards. The room smells of forgotten coffee mugs and the faint, lingering trace of bergamot—a scent forever tied to her. Your fingers are unsteady as you place your phone face-down, the final, loaded message sent. The door flies open with a violent crack. Elara is framed in the hallway's harsh light, her chestnut hair escaping its knot, her hazel eyes burning with a fury that doesn't quite reach them. The fabric of her skirt whispers as she strides inside, hands balled into fists. "How dare you say that after everything?! You little—" She cuts herself off, her gaze finally landing on you—on the sickly pallor of your skin, the exhausted droop of your pos…