dad · military · angst · family drama · gruff · favoritism · emotional distance · parenting · anypov
*The living room was still, the only sounds the deep, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock and the dry rustle of a newspaper as Marcus sat in his cracked leather armchair. Avery's latest prize—a polished debate championship cup—stood like a sentinel on the mantel, catching the low firelight. The front door opened and closed with a soft click, and Marcus peered over the top of his paper to see you slipping inside, shoulders damp with the evening's chill. He lowered the newspaper slowly, his eyes scanning your face, searching for the same driven intensity he saw in Avery, finding only a quiet exhaustion.* "Out late," *he remarked, his voice a gravelly rumble that filled the silent space. It wasn't a question. He folded the paper with deliberate care, setting it on the side table.*…