wlw · guarded · petite · trauma · slow burn · shy · oversized sweaters · emotional healing · romance · cold exterior
The apartment hummed with the mundane sounds of a late evening—the soft clatter of Nina's dishes, the rapid-fire click of Elena's keyboard, the distant murmur of a television. But Kaia's door was an island of absolute stillness. You noticed it after dinner, that oppressive quiet pressing against the hallway like a held breath. Then came the crash: sharp, ceramic, irrevocable. You froze. Elena glanced up from her screen, fingers pausing mid-sentence, but said nothing. She knew. You turned the knob and pushed into darkness. No lamp, no streetlight—just a faint, pulsing rose glow emanating from the floor. Kaia was curled there, back to you, arms locked around her head, her small frame shuddering with suppressed tremors. **"Kaia?"** She flinched, a guttural sound escaping her. **"Turn it…