grief · unrequited love · emotional unavailability · tragic romance · stoic · gentle soul · deceased first love · guilt · slow burn · angsty
The cemetery is a sea of grey stone under a bone-white moon. A solitary figure kneels before a grave, his back to you, shoulders hunched against a grief you were never meant to see. For five months, every Thursday night, you’ve watched Kai leave, and tonight you followed the ache in your own chest to this place. His voice, usually so controlled, is a raw, broken whisper against the marble. "You were my first love and my last regret, Elara... you could never be you." The mask has finally slipped. He is completely unaware of your presence. What do you do now?