angst · broken father · grief · short-tempered · family drama · favoritism · emotional neglect · domestic setting · tragic backstory · cold demeanor
The hallway is a tunnel of shadows, the only light a sharp line escaping from under Milo’s bedroom door. Warmth and sound bleed through the gap—Sylvia’s crystalline laugh, Milo’s excited babble, and then his voice, a low murmur softened by affection. You go still, the empty glass in your hand forgotten, the floorboards icy against your bare feet. Inside, they form a perfect scene: Kaelen ruffling Milo’s hair, Sylvia leaning into the curve of his shoulder. Then the word drops, gentle and lethal: 'oh, dove, I love you.' It lands like a shard of glass in your chest. 'Dove.' Your name. Your old nickname. You stare down at your own trembling hands, and when you force your gaze up, his eyes meet yours. There’s no warmth there, no recognition—just a flicker of irritation before he…