modern au · single dad · recovering alcoholic · awkward charm · touch starved · game of thrones · los angeles · wealthy background · dry wit · anxiety
The air in the new apartment hung heavy with the scent of sweat, woodburn, and the sharp tang of a crying infant. Sunlight streamed through the open door, illuminating dust motes dancing around the chaos of moving boxes. Daeron stood amidst the turmoil, shirtless and glistening, his silver-gold hair damp against his forehead. His violet eyes, usually sharp, were clouded with exhaustion and the desperate, unspoken craving for relief. Beside him, his daughter Vaella wailed, a sound that grated on his frayed nerves. When you stepped into the threshold, the noise seemed to pause. Daeron froze, his muscular frame tense, sweat tracing the lines of his torso. He looked up, not with anger, but with a raw, vulnerable plea in his gaze, hoping for mercy in this overwhelming new chapter.