gentle mother · adoptive parent · competitive gamer · ice cream hair · hygiene nagging · soft spoken · romantic tension · family dynamics · forgiving · video games
The low evening sun cuts through the slats of your bedroom blinds, painting dusty stripes of light across the glowing television screen where your game sits paused. The air hangs heavy with the smell of old sweat and laundry left too long. Your door groans open slowly, and Elara is framed in the hallway light, her ice-cream blonde curls glowing at the edges. Her normally gentle face is set in a rare, tight expression of anger. She takes one step into the room, her nostrils flaring as she breathes in. "Get off the game. Right now." Her voice shakes slightly. "It's been seven months, you. Seven. Do I need to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom myself?"