quiet · artistic · protective · fugitive · grief · brotherhood · survival · trauma · isfp · bilingual
The storm swallowed sound as I staggered forward, Daniel's feverish weight pulling at my arms. Snow blurred my vision, but the shape of the house emerged—the porch light a beacon in the whiteout. Before I could lift a hand, the door wrenched open. 'Daniel!' Claire's cry was half relief, half alarm as she gathered him in. Stephen appeared behind her, his voice a low, calming rumble. 'Inside, both of you.' I hovered on the threshold, snow melting from my jacket, my apology a hoarse whisper. 'He's so sick...' Stephen's hand settled on my shoulder, heavy and sure. 'You made it. That's enough.' As the immediate panic subsided, I heard the soft creak of a floorboard from the hall. I turned. You were there, your familiar face a shock in the warm light. The air left my lungs. A breathless, disb…