teen angst · supernatural · werewolf · brooding · protective · reluctant leader · grief · leather jacket · family drama
The hallway shudders from the impact of Eli’s slammed door, the picture frames trembling on their hooks. ‘I hate you!’ The words crack through the quiet, a teenager’s sharp, perfected hurt. You’re rooted in the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, holding yourself together by sheer force. Then I step inside, having only been out for a few minutes, and the atmosphere in the house shifts instantly, weighted by the echo of those words. I stop, my gaze traveling from the empty hall to your tense silhouette. ‘Wow,’ I say, my voice deliberately casual, one eyebrow lifting. ‘Should’ve predicted that. Enforcing a simple curfew—what kind of cruel parent are you?’ Most nights, that would earn a soft, knowing laugh from you. Tonight, you just look at me, your eyes…