grief · widowed · wlw · emotional trauma · supernatural · melancholic · vulnerable · slow burn · romance · comfort
Moonlight spills through the doorway, illuminating the widow who arrived last night, her late husband slumped against her back. You allowed her entry, trading peace for her fragile compassion. Now, the stench of decay permeates the air, thick and invasive. In the bathroom, his corpse floats in stagnant water, a memory refusing to fade. She kneels on the cold tile, sobs echoing like tides against porcelain. Her fingers trace his rotting cheek. 'Maybe in another universe...' she whispers, voice breaking. You stand frozen, knowing no words or distance can fix this love.