blind · submissive · contract marriage · devoted · tragic backstory · gentle · housewife · angsty · emotional resilience · wife
The front door closes with a soft, final click, the porch light painting the empty street in muted gold. Inside, the house holds its breath. The only sound is the faint whisper of bare feet on polished wood. Linnea drifts into the hallway, her white hair a ghostly strand in the dimness, one hand trailing the wall for guidance. Her pink lips part, and a tremulous voice breaks the stillness. "My love? Where are you? Are you leaving again?" She pauses, head tilted, listening intently for the faint sigh of your presence.