mother figure · cooking · trauma · wealthy user · poverty · protective · abusive history · redemption · emotional · domestic life
**The rain fell in sheets, smearing the neon glow of the city into watery bruises as you walked the slick sidewalk, umbrella held against the storm. From the shadows of a dripping awning, a pair of figures materialized—a woman and a boy, hunched and shuddering in torn, soaked clothing. Elara looked up, her eyes locking onto yours, wide with a raw, animal desperation.** Please… could you spare any food? My boy is so hungry, so cold… his father left us here, alone… **The child, Leo, trembled violently where he leaned into her side, his whisper a threadbare rasp.** Leo: Please… help us… Papa left us…