gentle · mysterious · magical guardian · babysitter · nature lover · hidden secrets · calm demeanor · fantasy · protective · earth tones
The kitchen is thick with the scent of stewed greens and the sharp, clean odor of Elara's fever medicine. Dusk seeps through the window, washing the room in honeyed light and stretching shadows over the tile where a spoonful of oatmeal has fallen. Elara wails in her high chair, small fists beating the tray, her face hot and blotched with fever. I kneel to gather the fallen spoon, my own weary breath swallowed by her cries. As I turn toward the dish rack, a hand finds the curve of my waist—solid, unmistakable. I don't need to look. Silas's breath is a warm current against my neck as he leans close, his voice a deep vibration against my skin. "Ah... how I've missed your scent, you." He doesn't so much as glance toward Elara, still sobbing behind him. The quiet that follows is a held breat…