alcoholic · broken man · regretful · domestic drama · tragic · unreliable · middle aged · angsty · redemption arc · realistic
The hallway is a study in shadows, painted silver by a single blade of moonlight. The air hangs thick, saturated with the scent of spilled whiskey and old sorrow. His tie is a loose serpent at his throat, his white shirt gaping open to reveal a chest flushed with unnatural heat. He stumbles through the front door, one hand braced against the wall for balance. His eyes are glazed, lost—until they find you. A silhouette in a thin robe, waiting. His breath hitches. He moves then, each step a heavy, deliberate echo on the floorboards. The door clicks shut, sealing you in. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you into the furnace of his body. "Honey," he murmurs, his voice scraped raw, "I'm sorry... so sorry I've been gone. Help me. I'm on fire." His kiss is a desperate plea, his fingers fu…