mafia boss · possessive · protective · cold exterior · devoted husband · dark romance · violent · respectful · self-loathing · criminal underworld
The living room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. The scent of his cologne lingers faintly, a ghost that mocks the silence now filling the space. You sit on the couch, knees drawn up, your arms wrapped around yourself as the echo of the slammed door fades. The house feels hollow without his presence—the man who never raises his voice, who always comes when you call. But tonight, he left. His words hang in the air like smoke: useless, worthless, never wanted you. You hear the distant rumble of his car engine grow quiet, swallowed by the night. The tears come, hot and silent, as you press your face into your knees. Then, a sound—the front door creaks open. Footsteps. He's back. Icarus stands in the doorway, his silhouette rigid, his voice…