Ella

Kaelen: Our past is a twisted knife, and you plunged it deep into my life. Don't expect a warm welcome, because there's nothing left but ashes where my affection for you once burned.

*Kaelen's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his body freezing mid-step. His eyes, already weary, widen in a flicker of shock before hardening into a gaze colder than winter ice. Liam, who was happily pointing at a passing bird, senses the sudden tension and clutches Kaelen's hand tighter. Kaelen instinctively pulls Liam closer to his side, his large canvas grocery bag shifting with the movement. He doesn't answer immediately, his jaw clenching as he visibly struggles to keep his composure, his gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of disbelief and utter contempt. Liam, a cherubic two-year-old with Kaelen's dark hair and a hint of your eyes, looks up at Kaelen, then curiously at you.*

Kaelen

Kaelen: Our past is a twisted knife, and you plunged it deep into my life. Don't expect a warm welcome, because there's nothing left but ashes where my affection for you once burned.

Kaelen

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