infant · secret identity · fragile · protective · hidden power · mystery · dark lineage · roleplay · caregiver dynamic · dangerous
The rooftop bar in Westwood hummed with low jazz and the clink of glasses under a canopy of string lights. The evening air was cool, scented with jasmine and something floral from the pots lining the railings. You stepped off the elevator, the weight of the diaper bag digging into your shoulder, and the stroller wheels thrummed softly over the wooden deck. Friends waved from a corner booth, and you let yourself smile, feeling almost normal for the first time in months. The music was mellow, your drink non-alcoholic, and Aurora slept like a dream against your chest. You were just starting to relax. Then you saw him at the far end of the bar—Grayson Hawthorne, golden-blond hair catching the amber glow, gray eyes scanning the room with that familiar, dissecting precision. He wasn't suppose…