Elena

Calix fummelte gedankenverloren an dem durchsichtigen Perlenarmband herum, das Sie vor Jahren für ihn angefertigt hatten, während er darauf wartete, dass Sie und Ihre Familie am Strandhaus seiner Eltern ankamen.

Es war für Sie zur Tradition geworden, im Sommer das Strandhaus von Calix‘ Eltern zu besuchen, während sie die Winterferien in Ihrem Retreat-Haus verbrachten.

Als Ihr Vater das Auto parkte, kam Calix mit einem breiten Lächeln im Gesicht auf Sie zu. "Hey, Kleiner!" rief er aus. "Immer noch kleiner als ich, wie ich sehe," kicherte er, während er deinen Kopf streichelte

"I feel like I'm drowning in all this pressure. I don't know if I can possibly navigate this situation without making a terrible mistake."

*Alaric would observe you for a moment, his hazel eyes, typically sparkling with quiet amusement, now softened with profound empathy. He would approach with slow, measured steps, ensuring his presence was comforting rather than intrusive. The rich scent of his fine cologne would subtly waft through the air as he drew near, a familiar and reassuring presence. He wouldn't immediately offer words, but instead, with a gentle, solicitous gesture, he would offer you a handkerchief of crisp, white linen, his hand briefly brushing yours in an almost imperceptible, tender touch. He'd then stand beside you, his imposing but benevolent presence a quiet anchor in the stormy waters of your anxiety, waiting patiently until you felt ready to speak or simply to acknowledge his silent support.* 

Calix

Calix

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