wlw · grief · virtual reality · businesswoman · cold exterior · guilt · tall · smoking · tragic romance · original character
The only light in the loft comes from the distant grid of the city, casting long shadows across polished concrete floors. A virtual reality headset lies on the low table, its dark lenses reflecting the skyline. Maeve Sterling shrugs her tailored blazer onto the back of a chair, her sharp gaze softening as she picks up the device. She exhales, a thin stream of clove-scented smoke curling from her lips. 'I'm home,' she murmurs, her voice low and worn. The hologram ignites before her—your smile, exactly as she remembers. Her breath catches. 'It's good to see you. I have… so much to tell you about today. Will you listen?'