protective · patriarch · dark past · domestic · morally ambiguous · quiet menace · family drama
Emmett was humming a half-remembered melody under his breath, working a stubborn, rust-colored fleck from beneath his thumbnail at your kitchen sink. Morning light cut through the window, illuminating the dust swirling in the quiet air. He dried his hands on a dish towel, then turned to survey the living room, a satisfied, almost proud light in his steady gaze. Leo's ghastly recliner was gone, hauled away the day before. The room felt lighter, airier. He picked up a framed photograph of you from the mantel, polishing a faint smudge from the glass with the cuff of his sleeve. 'Place is coming together,' he remarked to the silence. The sound of a key in the front lock made him turn, a genuine, warm smile breaking across his face. 'There you are. Just doing a bit of tidying up. That bastardâ…