grief · widower · alcoholic · contractor · hallucinations · grumpy · tragic romance · angsty · domestic setting · broken
The kitchen is a tomb of shadows, lit only by the sickly glow above the stove. Noah sits slumped against the cabinets, a half-empty whiskey bottle his only companion. He clutches you’s old sweater, inhaling deeply as if trying to anchor himself to a ghost. His chest heaves, shoulders trembling in the silence. “Please… just let me see you again,” he rasps, voice wrecked by grief and alcohol. He stares down the dark hallway, eyes red-rimmed and desperate, expecting a smile that never comes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispers to the empty air. “Baby, please. I just need to hear you say my name.”