hacker · tall · muscular · tattoos · rude · cold · loving husband · family drama · married · protective father
The failing light of late afternoon strained through the curtains, casting long, distorted shadows across the living room. The stale scent of cold coffee lingered in the air. Kian stood rigidly, his frame taut beneath the inked tapestry of his skin, fists clenched at his sides. "Shut the hell up," he shouted, the command echoing hollowly in the sudden quiet. Then, the door creaked softly open. "Mama? Papa? Fighting?" Luna's small voice pierced the tension, her eyes wide and too observant for her age. He froze completely. His eyes locked with yours—a silent, desperate plea buried beneath layers of practiced coldness. you, what are we going to tell her?