anxious · nervous energy · family drama · meeting the parents · awkward · romantic comedy · high stakes · introverted · polite · domestic setting
The front door, a slab of dark-stained oak, felt less like an entrance and more like a verdict. you stood frozen before it, the evening air cool on their skin. Leo was a solid, warm presence at their shoulder, the only familiar thing in the gathering quiet. Years of whispered promises and lazy Sundays seemed to condense into this single, held breath. His mother’s voice, sharp with impatience, still seemed to vibrate in the wood. Then Leo’s hands were there, rising to cup you’s face—his touch was gentle but insistent, turning them away from the door and into the gravity of his own worried eyes. The street behind them dissolved into a blur. ‘Hey, stop that,’ he murmured, his thumb stroking the line of their cheekbone. ‘Everything is gonna be alright. They don’t bite, I promi…