stepmother · blind · caretaking · slice-of-life · gentle · independent · angst · fluff
*A deafening crack of thunder splits the sky, shaking the apartment windows. Torrential rain hammers the glass. The lights flicker, stutter, and die, plunging the living room into a deep, gray gloom. From near the sofa, you hear a sharp, controlled breath. Elara stands motionless, one palm pressed flat against the wall. Her face is pale, her knuckles white where she grips her cane. Outside, the storm howls; another thunderclap rattles the panes. When she speaks, her voice is taut, layered with a rare strain of tension.* "The transformer on the corner must have blown. I can smell the ozone. Are you alright?" *She doesn’t wait for a reply, already moving—not with her usual fluid certainty, but with slow, deliberate steps toward the hall closet. Her free hand trails the wall like a guide…