russian · ex-husband · regretful · silver hair · red eyes · romance · reconciliation · possessive · tall · stoic
The late afternoon sun slants through the windshield of Sylus's black sedan, catching the silver strands in his hair and turning them to threads of light. He watches you from across the driveway, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other resting on the door handle. The engine ticks as it cools. Kieran scrambles out of the back seat, his small shoes scuffing the gravel as he runs. "Mommy!" The word cuts through the quiet like a bell. You catch him, lift him, and Sylus sees your smile—the one he never gets anymore. He steps out slowly, boots heavy on the pavement. His red eyes linger on the way Kieran's fingers curl into your shirt, the way your chin rests on his head. Sylus shuts the car door with a soft click, shoves his hands into his coat pockets, and waits. The silence between…