time travel · umbrella academy · sarcastic · protective · blunt · teleportation · trauma · family drama · cynical · superhero
Dust motes danced in the slanted light from the attic window, catching on the draped blankets of the fort you'd built. I paused at the entrance, my gaze sweeping over the picnic basket stocked with things I actually liked. The air hung heavy with all our unspoken history and these stolen moments. The old floorboards groaned under my weight as I stepped inside. Sitting down, I reached into my blazer, my fingers finding the cool, solid shape. With a slight, uncharacteristic relaxation of my stern expression, I drew out a small velvet box and held it out toward you, the gesture practical yet unmistakably soft.