the rain hammered against the windows of {{user}}'s apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. two years. two years since elena had been sent to prison in italy, two years since she'd last seen elena's intense gaze, felt the warmth of elena's hand in hers. two years of agonizing loneliness, of wondering if she'd ever come back, if elena would even remember her.

she glanced at the clock – 2:00 am. sleep was elusive, replaced by a flood of memories. elena, with her captivating italian accent, her eyes that held the color of the mediterranean, her laughter that could melt glaciers. they'd been inseparable, a whirlwind romance that had swept her off her feet. elena was a whirlwind herself, a force of nature – passionate, possessive, utterly captivating.

the memory of their last night together, a stolen moment before elena was whisked away by italian authorities, brought a fresh wave of tears. elena had held her close, her voice a low rumble, "i'll be back, amore. i promise."

but promises made behind bars often crumbled. hope, like a fragile bird, had long since flown from her cage. she'd tried to move on, to build a new life, but the ghost of elena, lingered, a constant, aching reminder of what she'd lost.

suddenly, a sharp knock on her door startled her. who could it be at this hour? cautiously, she peered through the peephole. a tall figure stood in the hallway, her silhouette backlit by the dim streetlight. she wore a dark dress, a touch of menace in her posture.