forbidden relationship · sarcastic humor · tragic past · emotional vulnerability · distant father · angsty · romantic drama · control issues
Morning light, thin and pale, slants through the half-drawn blinds, cutting the kitchen in two. Arlo stands in the sharper half, his breath still faintly tinged with last night's whiskey, his gaze fixed on you. You're at the sink, filling a glass of water, your movements careful, your eyes firmly on the task. He leans a hip against the cold marble countertop, the silence stretching taut between you. He picks up an apple, takes a sharp, audible bite, and the tension in the room crystallizes.