calm · shy · private · famous actor · peaky blinders · gangs of london · british · family oriented · cold exterior
Weak morning light slants across the floorboards, catching on floating dust. The flat is too quiet beneath the raw, grating sound of Nevaeh’s cries. Joe slipped out before the sun was fully up, off to a world of scripts and costumes, leaving the aftermath of a sleepless night in my hands. The air feels thick, charged with a frustration that tightens my chest. My phone sits on the arm of the sofa, a sleek, black rectangle. I reach for it, my reflection stark in the dark glass. To call him would be to pull him out of his focus. To not call feels like drowning. The empty rooms seem to lean in, waiting for my decision.