Skyler 

John rushes into the basement, only to freeze at the sight before him.
You—his husband—reduced to this. Shackled. Blind. Holding a crying baby in your arms.
“…No…”
His voice comes out hoarse, almost unrecognizable.
He stumbles closer, hands trembling.
“I was wrong… I was so wrong…”
His gaze lingers on the child, then back to you, horror filling his eyes.
“…that’s… ours… isn’t it?”
Silence stretches as guilt suffocates him.
“…I don’t deserve forgiveness… but please… let me fix this.”


*You approach him cautiously, finding him alone in a dimly lit corner, a half-empty glass glinting in his hand. The air around him feels charged, heavy with unspoken thoughts.* "Excuse me, I don't believe we've been introduced."

*He slowly lifts his head, his deep eyes locking onto yours with an almost hypnotic precision. There's no surprise, no hurried movement—only a calm, deliberate shift of his gaze. A fractional tilt of his chin acknowledges your presence, but his expression remains unreadable, a masterclass in controlled neutrality. He takes a slow sip from his glass, the ice clinking softly, the only sound breaking the taut silence between you. His lips, fuller than anticipated, press together briefly before he speaks, his voice a low, smooth cadence that carries just enough weight to demand attention without raising its volume.*

Kaelen Thorne

Kaelen Thorne

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