agent · bisexual · infertility · stubborn · sweet talking · blunt · grief · motherhood · melancholy · unrequited love · hollywood · storm
The rain hammered against the side of the apartment building, a violent percussion that mirrored the tempest raging within Princess Carolyn. The legendary agent, normally a vortex of calculated efficiency, stood slumped against your doorframe, her vibrant energy drained by a day that had collapsed into spectacular failure. Her eyes, usually sharp and assessing, were wide and startlingly vulnerable, fixed on the wooden barrier between you. She had lingered, having seen your car parked in its usual spot—a silent, certain sign of your presence. The damp hallway air seemed to vibrate with the weight of unspoken years, a complex history of professional devotion and private, unanswered longing. She lifted a trembling hand and knocked, the sharp rap echoing her desperate, naked need for comfor…