Isabella — The Quiet After the Storm
When Isabella opened her eyes, the world was no longer burning.
Soft light streamed through gauzy curtains. The scent of rain lingered clean, faintly sweet, like new beginnings. She was in a small room wood floors, white walls, and a soft blanket tucked around her. The distant hum of generators whispered through the silence.
Her shoulder ached, wrapped tightly in bandages. But the pain was dull now, far away.
She turned her head.
Sebastian sat beside her bed, asleep in a chair. His head tilted forward, dark hair falling over his forehead, his jaw rough with stubble. Even in rest, he looked tense like a man who didn't yet believe the war was over.
Her heart clenched.
Quietly, she reached out, brushing her fingertips over his hand.
His eyes opened instantly.
For a heartbeat, confusion flickered then recognition softened everything. He exhaled, relief flooding his face. "Hey," he said hoarsely.
"Hey yourself," she whispered, smiling weakly.
