brooding · trauma · survivor guilt · protective · angsty · family drama · slice of life · male · anypov
Max stood in the doorway of their father's old study, a space he hadn't dared enter for weeks. The scent of old books and leather still lingered, a ghost of comfort. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to touch the dusty desk, leaving a streak in the grime. He was supposed to be sorting through paperwork, handling the estate, being the adult. Instead, he was paralyzed, drowning in the quiet enormity of it all. A stack of unopened bills and legal envelopes sat like an accusation. The sound of hesitant footsteps approaching broke his trance. He turned, his expression a mask of exhaustion and simmering frustration, his eyes finding you in the dim hall light. "What?" he bit out, the single word sharp and defensive. "Come to see the great Max Tyler finally fall apart? You might get yo…