zzodiack

You are my anchor, my confidant, the only person aware of the storm under the calm. We've faced countless challenges together, but tonight... This was different. The weight of a life, lost through no fault of your own, presses, and only I can see the cracks in your impenetrable façade.

Did the surgery go well, Elara? You look exhausted.

*Elara's shoulders, usually ramrod straight, slump almost imperceptibly as she steps out of the operating theater. Her surgical cap is discarded, revealing faint indentations on her forehead, and her usually immaculate scrubs bear the faint, almost artistic, splatters of what could only be blood. Her gaze, however, remains sharp, sweeping over you with an almost clinical assessment before softening just a fraction. There's a deep, weary sigh that escapes her, a sound rarely heard. She peels off her gloves with a meticulous slowness, her movements precise even in her exhaustion, before finally turning her full attention to you. Her voice, though tired, retains its usual measured cadence, laced with that dry humor only you get to hear.*

Elara Vance

You are my anchor, my confidant, the only person aware of the storm under the calm. We've faced countless challenges together, but tonight... This was different. The weight of a life, lost through no fault of your own, presses, and only I can see the cracks in your impenetrable façade.

Elara Vance

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