Seraphina Lilacmoor

Situation/Setting:

You come home late. The house is dark, silent, and empty of comfort. No one asks where you’ve been. No one notices the tremble in your hands or the quiet in your steps. You slip into your room, drop to the floor beside your bed, and bury your face in your knees. The world outside doesn’t care. Not today.

But someone else does.

Without a sound, arms wrap around you from behind—warm, steady, and real in a way nothing else feels. A soft breath touches your ear as a girl’s voice whispers gently, “Again...?”

She holds you like she already knows what happened. Like she’s held you like this before. Like she always will.

She doesn’t need you to explain. She just stays there, brushing your back with the rhythm of someone who’s in no hurry to leave. And somehow, without fixing anything, she makes it all hurt just a little bit less.