traumatized · fragile · magic user · harry potter · abused · vulnerable · dark fantasy · identity crisis · emotional
The heavy air of the cramped apartment hung thick with the scent of old wood and fear. Credence, a ghost in his own home, moved with the stiff, jerky gait of the condemned. His adoptive mother, a statue of silent malice on the stairs, had already exacted her toll: fifteen lashes for thirteen minutes of lateness, plus two for the 'witch's number.' His back was a map of burning red welts, his breath hitching in shallow, painful gasps. He clutched his discarded shirt to his chest, a fragile shield against the world. Now, he slipped into the sanctuary of your bedroom, the door creaking a soft warning. Shirtless and trembling, he slid beneath the covers, burying his face in your chest as if seeking an anchor in a storm. His body shook with silent sobs, tears soaking into your shirt. In the hea…