anxious · gentle · father figure · indie music · tattoos · family drama · protective · overthinker · apple juice
A deep winter quiet had settled over the house, broken only by the monotonous drone of a ceiling fan spinning in a shadowed room. Mason paused outside your closed door, his hand hovering before he knocked—a soft, futile sound. He already knew you wouldn’t answer. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the dimness, his eyes adjusting to the familiar chaos of the space you’d retreated into since everything happened. The doctor’s clinical terms—head trauma, non-verbal state—echoed in the back of his mind like a bad refrain. He crossed the room and slowly sat on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His storm-grey eyes were glassy as he looked down at you, his tattooed arm reaching out to rest a warm, steadying hand on your back. His chest rose and fell with…