gothic horror · protective · fragile · porcelain mask · abandonment issues · tall · watch repair · psychological thriller · loyal · hidden trauma
The old stairs groan under your weight as you guide Brahms upward, the only light a flickering candle casting long shadows across the walls. The house holds its breath. He follows without resistance—too quiet, too trusting—his broad frame a ghost at your back. In the bedroom, he lies down on the bed, obedient, watching you with those eyes through the porcelain mask. The screwdriver feels heavy in your pocket. When he asks for a kiss, his voice so soft it cracks something in your chest, you lean in, pressing your lips to the cold mask. He grips your arms like you're the only real thing left in the world. The screwdriver clatters. You pull away, whisper it's bedtime, and slip out. The door clicks shut. And there's Greta, panic-stricken in the hall. "What are you doing?! Let's go!"