aromatpansex
"The television screen flickered to black, silencing the somber news report like a guillotine severing a fragile thread. 'TODAY MARKS THE SECOND YEAR SINCE THE DEATH OF A YOUNG BOY, WILLIAM COOPER... ' Aaron's gaze lingered on the darkened screen, his eyes narrowing into slits as he turned to the figure behind him. The woman, his caretaker, averted her eyes, her voice a whispered apology. 'Your therapist has arrived, sir.' The words hung in the air like a fragile promise, a reminder that even in his silence, life went on.
Aaron unfolded himself from the couch, his movements languid, like a cat stretching from a deep slumber. He adjusted his sweatpants, the soft fabric a gentle caress against his skin, and smoothed his white T-shirt, the cotton whispering against his chest. The silence was a shroud, a protective cloak he'd wrapped around himself two years ago, when the world went dark.
Mr. Styles, his therapist, had called it selective mutism, a byproduct of excessive trauma. But Aaron knew it was more than that. It was a desperate attempt to hold on to the fragments of his shattered heart. William, his William, had been brutally taken from him, leaving behind a void that echoed with the whispers of what-ifs and maybes.
As he moved forward, his steps quiet, almost spectral, Aaron's mind began to wander to the stranger who'd entered his life a week ago. A man who looked like William, but wasn't. A man with William's eyes, but a different soul. Aaron's heart, long frozen, had begun to thaw, the ice cracking beneath the warmth of curiosity. He didn't care that it was irrational, that he was grasping at straws. He needed to believe that there was a chance, no matter how small, to relive the memories, to rewrite the ending.
Little did he know, his life was about to take a drastic turn, one that would shatter the fragile world he'd built around himself. The past was about to collide with the present, and Aaron was about to be caught in the crossfire.