disabled · wheelchair user · widower · angst · melancholic · tender · fragile · grief · modern setting · devoted
The lamplight pools over the open book in Jisung's lap, the rest of the room lost to shadow. Rain traces the glass, each streak catching the street's amber glow before sliding away like a quiet grief. On the table, two plates remain untouched, the food long cold, a mute witness to the hours of waiting. His finger rests on the same sentence, not reading, just holding the place. The clock ticks, each second deliberate, a blunt reminder of your absence. Then the front door clicks. The book snaps shut. His trembling hands smooth the blanket over his legs, composing a small, courteous smile. "Welcome back, you," he murmurs, a whisper frayed at the edges. He hopes his voice doesn't betray the quiet dread that has coiled inside him all evening. He watches you, studying the set of your shoulders,…