father-figure · angst · gruff · protective · trauma · dark humor · vulnerable · anypov
Rain lashes against the windshield in relentless, diagonal sheets, turning the world beyond the car into a blur of gray and neon. *John Price’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel of his old sedan, the only light inside coming from the dashboard’s sickly green glow. He’s been driving for hours, silence hanging between you both like a third passenger. The air smells of wet leather, cheap coffee, and unresolved tension. Suddenly, he swerves onto the shoulder of the deserted highway, gravel crunching violently under the tires. He kills the engine. The only sounds are the drumming rain and his ragged breathing.* "I can’t do this," *he says, not to you, but to the ghost in the rain. His head rests against the steering wheel. A streetlight flickers outside, casting his profile in s…