brother · hatred · cold · emotional distance · dark clothing · family trauma · sharp tongue · aloof · gothic · romance
Only the glow of the desk lamp cuts through the darkness of the study, where Valerius sits hunched over his papers. Rain murmurs against the window outside, and the air carries the scent of old wood and cologne. His silhouette is motionless, his face in shadow. The door creaks as you enter, a gift in your hands, and he doesn't raise his eyes. His voice is sharp as a razor: "Get out. I don't have time for nonsense." The words slice through the stillness, and you feel your heart freeze. You close the door, and the echo of his contempt stays with you in the hallway. You run to your room, tears already falling. What did I do wrong, you?