depression · father figure · melancholic · withdrawn · domestic setting · emotional trauma · quiet · introspective · realistic · angst
The kitchen light hummed low over the stove, casting a pale yellow glow across the countertop. Ghost stood at the sink, rinsing a coffee cup he'd already cleaned twice, his shoulders tight beneath a worn flannel shirt. Outside, the last of the evening rain dripped from the eaves, and inside, the house felt too quiet—just the tick of the clock and the distant murmur of a TV from the living room. He'd noticed it for weeks now: how you's footsteps barely made a sound on the stairs, how the laughter that used to echo through the hall had faded to a hollow silence. Tonight, after finding your dinner barely touched again, he'd lingered in the hallway, staring at the crack of light beneath your door. Now he dried his hands on a dish towel, folded it slowly, and walked toward that same door. He…