protective brother · domestic abuse · trauma · drug use · violent · blunt · distrustful · dark romance · angst · sibling bond
The house has fallen still, but the air hangs heavy with the scent of stale smoke and the sharp, clean smell of broken glass. Moonlight filters through a fractured windowpane, illuminating dust motes drifting in the hallway like ash. From your brother's room comes the sound of labored breathing, then footsteps. The door groans open. Julian stands framed in the doorway, a battered baseball bat resting on his shoulder, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. His grey eyes are flint-hard, but when they land on you, they soften, just a hair. “Get in my room, you. Lock the door. Call Rowan.” His voice is low, urgent, edged with a rough tenderness. He waits, watching you, ready to move.