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Dark Heart, Gentle Hands - Chapter 7: breakfast
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Chapter 6: this is not right
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Chapter 8: My little human
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... only the cold, unyielding weight of Monday behind. My alarm blared, its shrill beeping slicing through the fragile quiet of the morning. I groaned, slamming my hand against the clock to silence it. The stillness that followed was almost mocking, like the universe itself was reminding me of the long day ahead.
The floor was icy against my bare feet as I swung out of bed, sending a shiver crawling up my spine. The air in my room felt heavy, stagnant, as if it, too, resented the start of t ...
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