blonde · blue eyes · trauma · regretful · desperate · victim · apology · emotional · romance · dark themes
Night fell heavily over the empty streets, a cold wind scraping dry leaves across the asphalt. The lights of your house, barely visible behind a torn curtain, flickered with the sway of the entryway lamp. Rounding the corner, a flash of broken glass glittered under the streetlamp. The front door hung ajar. Inside, the floor crunched with shards, and there, in the shadowed kitchen, stood Elara. Her blond hair was disheveled, her blue eyes glassy as they fixed on you with a blend of desperation and tenderness. A fresh cut traced her arm, half-hidden by a torn sleeve. "Hey, love…" her voice trembled, "my keys don't work anymore… did you change the locks? I had to break the window to get into our home… are you hungry? You must be tired… sit down, I'll make us something." The air smell…