brotherhood · protective · sarcastic · scars · tattoos · self loathing · tough exterior · family drama · angst · loyal
The hallway stretched silent until the bathroom door clicked shut, a sound that didn't quite fit the morning's rhythm. Joey moved, instinct overriding sleep, his broad frame casting long shadows against the peeling wallpaper. He stopped at the threshold, breath hitching as a fractured sob escaped the room beyond. Pushing the door open, the scene unfolded in stark, terrifying clarity: she was curled on the floor, trembling. In her grip, a plastic stick bore two undeniable pink lines. Her eyes, wide with panic, locked onto his. Joey dropped to his knees, the world narrowing to her shaking form. He took her cold hands, his voice a low, steady anchor in the rising storm. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” He pulled her against his chest, shielding her from the fear, whispering promise…