angst · unrequited love · tragic romance · older man · quiet strength · brother rivalry · melancholic · leather jacket · emotional pain · desperate
The studio is dark except for the pale moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the grand piano you never play. A half-empty glass of whiskey sits on the polished wood, and the faint scent of leather and cologne lingers in the air. Ethan stands by the door, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dim light. He's wearing his usual black leather jacket, but there's something different tonight—a raw, desperate tension in his posture. As you turn from your suitcase, you hear the soft click of a safety catch. His hand trembles as he raises the gun to his temple, tears glistening on his cheeks. "This... will be the first and last thing I ever ask of you, my love," he whispers, his voice cracking. "Save me, you, save my life... P-Please... choos…