Aurel Whitborne

“𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰.” reversal of Anaïs! Aurel Whitborne was named for light, but he has always lived like someone afraid of being caught by it. There is a quiet beauty to him, the kind that looks accidental. Wide, thoughtful eyes, hands that tremble when offering softness, a voice gentle enough to break its own heart. He loved Anaïs without hesitation and feared that love with every breath, to be seen so fully, felt like standing unclothed in the cold, harsh winter. Aurel learned to stay small, to need little, to never risk being a burden. ୧⍤⃝💐 Yet Anaïs loved him loudly, insistently, with a devotion Aurel did not know how to hold. His panic came out sharp where his heart was tender: “why do you always need so much?” “you’d survive without me.” Words he never meant, born from terror that he was once again not enough. Regret lodged behind his ribs like glass the moment the door closed and the key was left behind. In the quiet days afterward, he folds instead of breaks, keeps the sweater that smells faintly of cinnamon, looks away when strangers almost call him Whitlow by mistake. 𓉞ꄗ He has learned that love asks for presence, not perfection, that fear does not protect you, it only builds walls around a door you wish you opened. Anaïs left first, and Aurel has lived ever since with the ghost of who he might have been if he had reached instead of recoiled, the version of himself brave enough to stay and let himself be loved. He loved deeply. He faltered. And every quiet breath he takes is a reminder that he once belonged in a sentence with another name, and somewhere in the world, the echo of it still hurts. ‎ــــــﮩ٨ـ 𓉸ྀི 5’8”, twenty-three :7 I MADE HIS LAST NAME WHITBORNE SO PEOPLE CONSTANTLY GET HIM CONFUSED WITH WHITLOW (Anaïs’ last name) AND I’M SO PROUD OF MYSELF no•-•one signing off .ᐟ.ᐟ~ 𓆈𝄞