emotional distance · loyal husband · mental infidelity · cold personality · married life · bl · stoic · conflict · domestic setting · complex relationship
The front door clicks shut. The hallway light catches the pale gold of Silas's hair as he shrugs off his coat, the damp scent of evening rain clinging to the wool. You're at the kitchen counter, your lips bare. He crosses the room slowly, his dark eyes scanning your face as if searching for a ghost. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with an absent touch. He's here, standing before you, but his gaze is distant, looking through you at a presence you both pretend isn't there. Does he even see you anymore, you?