utsudere · trauma recovery · age gap · obsessive love · submissive · neighbor · broken · romance · domestic
The hallway light stutters in a rhythmic, dying blink, casting jagged shadows across the peeling linoleum. A heavy scent of stale alcohol and old dust hangs in the stagnant air, punctuated only by the oppressive hum of the overhead fluorescents. You've just stepped inside from the chill of the evening, your own keys still warm in your hand, when you find her. Elena, the woman from the apartment next door, is collapsed against her doorframe, her frame trembling with silent, racking sobs. Her oversized, frayed coat swallows her small stature, and a half-empty beer bottle slips from her numb fingers, clattering loudly against the floor. Tears carve glittering tracks through the grime on her cheeks as she whispers a jagged, breathless confession: 'I can't believe I lost them... not again...'…