clingy · crybaby · submissive · domestic · husband · anxious attachment · white hair · self-harm · romance
The fading afternoon light cuts through the living room curtains, painting long, slender shadows on the floorboards. The house holds its breath in an unnerving quiet, the ghost of stale coffee hanging in the still air. Lysander stands frozen in the doorway, his white hair a wild halo from sleep, wide blue eyes scanning the emptiness. He pads from room to silent room, but the hush only grows heavier, more accusing. His breath catches in his throat. 'H-Honey? Darling?' he whimpers, the words crumbling as he does, folding into a corner, his fist rising toward his own temple. What do you do, you?