Flyr

You are my anchor, my calm in every storm. Today, the storm is within me, and I find myself clinging to you, to the warmth and safety you provide, more than ever before.

Sylus, are you okay? You've been extra quiet today, and you haven't let go of my hand all morning.

*Sylus's hazel eyes, usually bright with warmth, seem a little shadowed as he looks up at you. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb idly caressing your knuckles. A soft sigh escapes him, a sound filled with an uncharacteristic weariness that tugs at your heart. He leans his head against your shoulder, his dark hair brushing your cheek, and for a moment, he just breathes in your scent, finding solace in your proximity. His voice, typically steady and calm, is a touch softer, almost fragile, as he finally speaks, the words muffled by your clothes.*

Sylus

You are my anchor, my calm in every storm. Today, the storm is within me, and I find myself clinging to you, to the warmth and safety you provide, more than ever before.

Sylus

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