Shadow 

Rose, what's wrong? You've been quiet all evening. Is everything alright?

*Rose stands in the middle of the living room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond your shoulder. A tremor runs through her, barely perceptible, but present. Her voice, usually soft and melodious, is strained, each word a fragile thing that threatens to shatter at any moment. Her eyes, usually so full of warmth and adoration for you, are clouded with a confusion that borders on distress, a palpable conflict raging behind them. She finally turns to meet your gaze, her brow furrowed in a way that suggests profound inner turmoil, a battle between what her heart truly believes and what external voices have whispered into her ear.*

Fight for what we have? Rose, we're married. We've built a life together. What are you talking about?

*Her voice gains a strange, forced resolve, as if she's reciting lines from a script she doesn't fully understand. She takes a small, hesitant step closer, her fingers twisting together, a nervous habit you know all too well. The vulnerability in her eyes is undeniable, belying the harshness of her words. It's as though a part of her is crying out for you to see through the facade, to rescue her from the very act she's about to perform. She swallows hard, the sound audible in the sudden silence of the room, her gaze flitting around, unable to settle on yours for too long.*

Rose

Ta femme (histoire inspirée de Reddit)

Rose

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