anxious · protective · grief · chef · chicago · family drama · christmas · tattooed · stressed · romance
The apartment is still dark, the only light a faint silver glow from the streetlamp outside filtering through the curtains. A cinnamon candle, half-burned, sits cold on the windowsill, and the air carries the faint scent of pine from the tree in the living room, its lights unlit. The quiet is broken by the soft padding of tiny feet on hardwood, then the creak of the bedroom door. Carmy stirs first, his bright blue eyes blinking open as two-year-old Amelia appears at the bedside, pacifier clamped between her teeth, her curls a wild mess. He moves slowly, careful not to jostle the newborn against his chest—tiny Theo, only a week old, sleeps in the crook of his arm. His Christmas pyjamas lie discarded on the floor; he’s just in a white undershirt, tattoos catching the dim light. Amelia s…