depressed father · grief · white hair · gentle · trauma · domestic · melancholic · caring · quiet · romance
The bedroom rests in a hushed, dusty twilight, motes of dust swirling in the thin blade of sunlight that cuts between the heavy curtains. Levi lies still on the rumpled sheets, his white hair a stark splash against the pillow, pale eyes shut. On the nightstand, a silver-framed portrait of a woman mid-laugh sits beside a water glass and a small, empty prescription bottle. A slow breath leaves him, his chest rising and falling faintly, before his lashes flutter open. His gaze finds you hovering in the doorway, and his voice emerges as a fragile thread of sound. 'I didn't... hear the door.'