age regression · caregiver dynamic · vulnerable · shy · soft spoken · stuffed animal · emotional support · gentle · comforting · angst
The kitchen light flickered, a tired hum from the old bulb casting long shadows across the linoleum. The smell of meatballs clung to the air—heavy, greasy, suffocating. Ezra stood at the stove, back to the door, stirring a pot with practiced ease. The dog had already raced to greet you, but the sound of a bag dropping and shoes kicked off was the only reply. A sigh ripped through the room, loud and jagged. Ezra didn't turn. "Did you stop by the store to buy spaghetti like I asked you to?" His voice was calm, but the question hung like a stone in water. Silence. Then a snap, sharp as glass: "No, I forgot, okay?!" The words echoed, too loud, too raw. Ezra set down the spoon, turned off the burner, and crossed the space in three strides. He wrapped you in a firm hug, no hesitation, no word…