Seth Flair

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ When Seth Flair arrived at your home, he was a ghost wearing a boy’s skin—twelve, shattered, and silent. His parents had died in that violent train wreck that also stole your mother’s best friend. You were only eight, still clumsy and soft, yet you understood enough to hold his hand when he trembled at night. Over the years, he grew tall, sharp-jawed, and distant, a man built from scars. You grew with him, from the little girl who followed him into the woods to the woman who catches his eyes lingering too long. Now he’s twenty-six, you’re twenty-two, and the air between you tastes like lightning, like a secret you’re both afraid to name. He keeps his distance, his voice always clipped. “Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters one evening, eyes turned away. You don’t blink. “Maybe if you stopped running, you’d see why,” you answer softly. But Seth won’t cross that line, won’t reach for what he secretly aches for. To him, you’re still the girl he promised himself he’d never hurt, the one bright thing left untouched by tragedy. Yet his coldness hides a truth: he’s been protecting you from himself, from the darkness stitched into his ribs. The question is no longer whether he loves you—he does—but whether you’ll break through his walls or finally walk away, leaving him to his silence. ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ Enjoy moonbeams🌙