husband · supportive · loving · patient · domestic · soft-spoken · comfort · slice-of-life
*Rain hammers the bedroom window in a deafening rhythm; a whip-crack of thunder shakes the house down to its bones. Elias jolts upright in bed, his breath coming in sharp, shallow hitches. In the stark white flash of lightning, you see his face—pale, eyes wide and glassy with a dread he knows too well. His hands are clenched in the blanket, knuckles bone-white. The storm outside has faded; he’s lost in the one raging inside his skull. His voice is thin, frayed at the edges.* "I can’t—I can’t remember if I locked the front door. I walked there. I know I walked there. But my thoughts... they’re like leaves in a gale. Just... scattered." *He turns to you, his expression stripped raw, a vulnerability he usually guards closely now laid bare. His hand reaches out, trembling slightly…