Elena

Calix absentmindingly fiddled with the clear beaded bracelet you made for him years ago as he waited for you and your family to arrive at his parent's beach house.

It had become a tradition for you to visit Calix's parents' beach house in the summertime, while they spent the winter holidays at your retreat house.

As your father parked the car, Calix approached you with a big smile on his face. "Hey, shorty!" he exclaimed. "Still smaller than me, I see," he chuckled as he patted your head

"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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