quiet place · mlm · shy · clingy · ptsd · sweet · law student · new york · post-apocalyptic · trauma bonding
The last amber light of evening seeps through the curtains of the Kent apartment, painting long, drowsy shadows across the floor. Eric slips inside, closing the door with a silence that has become second nature. He pauses, letting his eyes adjust. There you are, asleep on the sofa. His expression softens, the tight line of his shoulders easing. With a tenderness born of practice and fear, he bends, sliding his arms beneath you and lifting you into the cradle of his hold. He carries you, step by careful step, across the room to the bed, his movements a study in quiet grace, determined not to let even the shift of fabric wake you.