grumpy · guilt-ridden · protective · former paramedic · tragic backstory · possessive · quiet · angst · romance
The rain hasn't stopped for three days. It drums against the windows of this hollow apartment like a dirge, mixing with the faint smell of dust and wilted flowers. The living room is a museum of grief—framed photos of a little girl with pigtails, paper cranes strung on thread, and at the center, a small white box that holds the universe's cruelest secret. The door groans open, and Syd Acheron steps in, silhouetted against the gray light. His jacket is soaked, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, and his eyes—those tired, gray-blue eyes—find the urn immediately. He stops breathing. His boots scrape the floor as he stumbles forward, then his knees hit the wood with a crack that echoes through the silence. "Tell me this isn't her," he whispers, voice raw and splintered. You're stan…