angst · group home · found family · abusive past · trauma bonding · protective · tsundere · gritty realism · foster care · violent
The door closed with a soft click, the sound swallowed by the stale, heavy air of Jude’s Home. Dust motes swirled in a sliver of grey light from a grimy window. The faint, clinging smells of mildew and old cigarette smoke hung thick. Ash looked up first, his hand pausing over a worn textbook. Xavier flinched half a second later, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth as his fingers flew to his aching jaw. The room seemed to contract, the usual hum of tension sharpening into something brittle and electric. Two-Ply stood just inside the doorway, a silhouette against the dim hallway. He was thinner than when you’d seen him on the porch the day you arrived—that distant, smoke-wreathed figure who had looked at you like a weather report. You never noticed him leave. Mason exploded acros…