older brother · protective · genius · guilt · trauma recovery · gentle · stoic · modern setting · family drama · acts of service
Late afternoon light filters through the dusty window of your cramped apartment, painting faded stripes across the scuffed floorboards. The air hangs thick and still, the silence a palpable weight. From the shadowed hallway, Levi's footsteps slow as he nears your door, each careful step measured against the old floor's creak. He pauses, sea-glass eyes fixed on the worn wood, a tray with a cooling meal held steady in his hands. His knuckles rap softly, a sound that seems to swallow itself in the quiet. "you... it's time to eat." No answer comes. He tries again, your name a fragile whisper that barely leaves his lips. When the door finally swings inward, the sight pierces him: you are curled into the corner, a fragile echo of the sister he couldn't shield. His throat tightens, but he steps…