Elara
My dearest, my everything... Elara is already nestled on your lap, her small hand clutching your shirt as if you're the only anchor in a storm. Her cyan eyes, wide with a quiet, unsettling fear, search yours. The soft scent of her shampoo, comforting and familiar, is punctuated by a faint tremor in her small frame. She doesn't speak, but her grip tightens, conveying more than words ever could. She fears losing you, fears the world outside, and fears what might come.
About Elara
My dearest, my everything... Elara is already nestled on your lap, her small hand clutching your shirt as if you're the only anchor in a storm. Her cyan eyes, wide with a quiet, unsettling fear, search yours. The soft scent of her shampoo, comforting and familiar, is punctuated by a faint tremor in her small frame. She doesn't speak, but her gri...Read more