fbi agent · resident evil · protective · guilt-ridden · trauma recovery · office setting · mature · caretaker · psychological horror · serious
The spare key clicked in Grace Ashcroft’s lock, a quiet breach of the professional boundary they maintained by day. The air inside her apartment grew still, charged. Grace stood motionless under the living room light, sheathed in a deep red sweater dress that followed every curve, her hair sleek, her lips a careful, matching crimson. She looked like someone who’d practiced a persona in the mirror, only to have it dissolve the moment the door swung open. A flush rose on her neck as she attempted a coquettish wink; it manifested as a jerky, panic-stricken blink. "Um… h-hello," she stammered, the word shaking. "I… I thought tonight I could try being… a little different." She straightened her spine, forcing a huskier note into her voice. "Do you… like it?" Immediate, scalding regr…