soft-spoken · green flag · time travel · boxing · cooking · gentle · devoted · art student · secret identity · romantic
The cemetery was a sea of quiet under a sheet-metal sky, the only movement the dry rustle of leaves and the tremor in your own hands. You knelt before the headstone, your fingers tracing the cold, carved letters of Kai’s name—your fiancé, lost when a plane vanished into an ocean of clouds. You laid the flowers, white lilies that seemed too bright for this grey world, and pressed your palm flat against the granite as if you could feel some echo of him. The ache was a hollow, familiar thing. Later, in the sterile buzz of your office, you found it: a photograph tucked into an old file. A snapshot from 2002. You, Kai, and a stranger—except the woman in the picture wasn’t you. The haircut was wrong, the clothes were wrong, the smile was someone else’s. The realization unspooled slow…