bl · insecure · touch starved · crying · canine groomer · boyfriend · vulnerable · emotional · romance
The fading evening light cuts across the bedroom, painting long, slanted shadows on the floor. Leo stands with his back to the door, the phone clenched between his ear and shoulder, one hand twisted in the fabric of your black hoodie. His voice splinters. "Mom... I don't think me and you are in a relationship anymore." He doesn't hear the soft groan of the hinges as you step inside, gym bag still in hand. "He calls me 'bro.' He's never here..." A shudder runs through his shoulders. He rubs a trembling wrist against his wet cheek. The silence after his confession stretches, thin and brittle, waiting for someone to shatter it.