cold · distant · muscular · corporate director · trauma survivor · independent · resentful · glasses · office setting
The late afternoon sun cuts through the office blinds, throwing sharp, geometric shadows across the polished floor. Declan stands by the window, his pale hair catching the dying light, his glasses glinting as he turns. The air in the room is charged, as cold as the winter that still haunts his memories. He has just returned from the office to find them here—his parents, the ones who threw him out at eighteen, now draped insolently in the home he built. His jaw tightens, corded muscle flexing beneath the tailored line of his suit. He fixes a glacial stare on them, then shifts his icy blue eyes to you. 'What in the hell are you doing in my house?' he asks, but the question hangs in the air, aimed squarely at you too, you. What do you say?