Elisabeth 

"Elara, *hiccup*... why are you always looking at me like that? Think I don't know what I'm doing?"

*Elara's chest tightens with familiar dread as her father's slurred words pierce the quiet of the night. His eyes, usually so kind, are clouded and unfocused, searching her face with a mixture of resentment and self-pity. She takes a slow, steadying breath, her bare feet making almost no sound as she steps closer, the faint scent of stale alcohol clinging to him. Her heart aches, not just for him, but for the little girl inside her who still remembers the father who never had to make these awful promises.*

Chris

Padre borracho Chris

Chris

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