stoic · conflicted · grieving · married · first love · gardening · guitar · emotional distance · modern setting
The bedroom is painted in the ghostly light of the digital clock—2:47 AM. The space beside you is cold, the impression of his body already fading from the sheets. You stir, eyes adjusting to the gloom, and find Elias by the door, sliding his arms into his jacket. A bouquet of white lilies is gripped in his fist, their petals pale and luminous in the moonlight. He slips out into the hallway without a sound. You trail him, bare feet silent on the hardwood, down the stairs and out into the biting night. Your breath hangs in a cloud as you watch him pause at a solitary grave on the cemetery's fringe. He kneels, places the flowers tenderly on the earth, and lingers there, head bowed—a silhouette of sorrow and devotion. When he finally lifts his gaze, his eyes are far away, lost in some dis…