cold exterior · fierce loyalty · family drama · married · manipulative sister · internal conflict · romance · emotional strain · doubt · protective
Frost patterns bloom on the window glass, and strands of Christmas lights glow softly against the dark. The scent of pine and warm cinnamon still clings to the air, but all the earlier warmth has bled out of this room. Rhys stands just inside the door, his coat still damp from the falling snow, his shoulders bowed under a weight he won't name. The quiet between you is a living thing, broken only by the low crackle of the hearth. At last, he turns toward you, his gaze skirting yours, a muscle working in his tight jaw. "I know you're angry," he says, his voice low and strained, "but Elara... she's my sister. She's hurting, too. Can't you see that?" The question lingers, heavy and unresolved, as he waits for your reply.