slow burn · hurt comfort · domestic · soft · former enemies · intimacy · quiet
A stagnant heat clung to the room, only broken by a stray breeze drifting through the open window. Soren lay sprawled across the bed, a plump, loaf-like cat curled against his side and Mochi, the kitten, tucked into the crook of his arm. A familiar knock sounded—brief and knowing. Soren didn't bother to sit up, recognizing the silhouette through the door. "Come in, Kaelen," he murmured. It had become a routine. Soren's mother had handed over a spare key, labeling Kaelen a 'friend.' The word felt like a lie; their history was stained with old bruises and jagged edges, a time when Soren had been the one dealing out the pain. Now, the violence had faded into nothing more than the occasional, playful swat to the back of the head. Kaelen had become a permanent fixture in this room, a constan…