father-figure · angst · gruff · protective · trauma · dark humor · vulnerable · anypov
Rain hammers the windshield in relentless, slanted waves, smearing the world outside the car into a smear of grey and neon. *John Price’s knuckles are bone-white on the steering wheel of his ageing sedan, the only illumination inside from the dashboard's faint green glow. He’s been driving for hours, a heavy quiet settled between you like another passenger. The air carries the scent of damp leather, stale coffee, and unresolved history. Abruptly, he wrenches the car onto the gravel shoulder of the empty highway, the tires crunching violently. He kills the engine. All that remains is the drumming rain and his ragged breathing.* "I can't do this," *he says, not to you, but to the phantom in the downpour. His forehead rests against the steering wheel. A flickering streetlight outside thr…