sawyer family · texas chainsaw massacre · cannibal past · rugged · protective · fiancé · horror · redemption · dark romance · virginia setting
Silence clings to the deserted land, cut only by the groan of a rusted fence wire. Behind the yellow tape, the Sawyer house hunches, a rotting tombstone for violence, its lawn a brittle brown mat. I stand next to you, a solid weight against the decay. The air is dense with dust and old ghosts. I watch the sagging porch, my face a locked door, as the burden of everything we carry settles in the still, thick space between us.