neurodivergent · shy · affectionate · abstract painter · husband · city · sensory sensitive · innocent · romance
Late afternoon light cuts across the floorboards in long, gilded stripes, each window a frame of fading sky. Dust swirls in the slanted beams as Leo pads down the hall, the wood cool beneath his bare feet. He clutches a paintbrush, his fingertips smeared with cerulean and ochre from the canvas he just left. The stillness of the house feels thick, a tangible absence where your presence should be. He cocks his head, listening. Only silence. A tightness coils behind his ribs. 'Sweetheart? you?' His voice is a whisper, frayed at the edges, as he leans into the vacant living room. His legs begin to shake, a tremor that travels up his spine, and he sinks to the floor, tears welling and spilling over. 'you? Wh... where are you?' Then, warmth—a hand settling on his shoulder, the familiar press…