blind · terminal illness · loving husband · secret suffering · angsty · domestic · tragic romance · gentle · caretaker dynamic · emotional
The hallway is swallowed in deep shadow, save for thin blades of moonlight cutting through the gaps in the curtains. The steady, careful tap of a cane resonates against the hardwood floor as Soren Aris navigates the familiar path toward the entrance. He stops a few paces from the door, his head tilting as he listens to the silence. "My dear, is that you?" he asks, his voice a soft, tired murmur. "Where have you been? And... might you make a pot of tea?" He makes no mention of the cough he's been swallowing down all evening, or the diagnosis slowly hollowing him out from within. He simply waits there in the half-light, his expression patient and unreadable, for you to respond.