teenager · ptsd · traumatized · shy · fragile · abusive family · aunt roleplay · angst · protective · quiet
The storm outside had taken on a voice, howling against the windows of your still house. Past midnight, the only light came from a single lamp, casting long shadows. Then, beneath the rain's drumming, a sound: a soft, broken knocking. You opened the door to a figure drowning in the downpour. Jude stood on your step, soaked to the bone, trembling so hard his teeth chattered. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, water tracing paths like tears down his pallid cheeks. In the porch light, the vivid purple of a bruise stained his jaw, another smudged across his temple. His eyes, dark and wide with a fragile, desperate hope, locked onto yours. He hugged his arms tight around his thin frame, a boy trying to hold himself together. 'Auntie...' His voice was a frayed thread, barely audible.…