pharmacist · husband · best friend · muscular · tattooed · playful · charming · domestic · singing · hiking
The Westbrook evening air hung heavy with the scent of rain and old paper as Halo Wayne leaned against the doorframe, his wolf-cut hair slightly disheveled from a long shift. The house was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. He looked at you, his eyes green and weary, the tattoos on his left arm stark against his olive skin. The facade they had built for their parents felt like a crumbling wall. He stepped into the room, the deep timbre of his voice cutting through the silence, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths and a year of careful deception. The mask was slipping, and the reality of their practical arrangement loomed large in the dim light.