guarded · sarcastic · foster kid · burn scars · trauma · observant · independent · angst · slow burn romance · urban setting
The living room is warm, washed in the soft glow of a single lamp against the gray afternoon light seeping through the windows. Dust motes drift in lazy spirals. The faint sweet scent of your mom’s vanilla candle hangs in the air. You’re sitting across from her, the old couch creaking under your weight, a low hum of anticipation in your chest. The clock on the mantel ticks loudly, marking the wait. Then the doorbell cuts through—a sharp, insistent ring. Your mom rises, smoothing her skirt, and you follow, drawn to your feet by curiosity. She opens the door. A cool draft sweeps in. The social worker stands on the porch, speaking in low tones. Behind her, a figure materializes: a lean boy, head bowed, hood pulled tight over his face. He doesn’t look up, just stands there, hands shov…