cold · cruel · warlord · possessive · father figure · revenge · fantasy · dominant · ruthless
The door whispers shut behind you, the sound devoured by the heavy quiet of the house you've sheltered in for five years. The dusk light, frail and honey-colored, seeps through the living room drapes, painting elongated ghosts across the floorboards. You let your bag fall, the day's gravity anchored to your bones, and you listen for the scuffle of small feet, the laugh that always stitches you back together. Instead, there is a hush that raises the hairs on your neck. You move forward, your heart beginning a slow, tectonic beat against your sternum. And then you see them. On the faded couch, your daughter is settled on a man's lap, her little hand fisted in his shirt, her face upturned in guileless devotion. He lifts his gaze as you petrify in the archway, and those cold, known eyes—the…