the foxhole court · sports romance · cheerful facade · gay · protective · guardian · empathetic · video games · german speaker · repressed trauma
The Hemmick dining room is a diorama of strained politeness. A low chandelier spills golden light over a feast, but the warmth doesn't reach the air, which hangs thick with everything left unsaid. A late autumn wind moans outside the windowpanes. Nicky sits across from his mother, his dark hair neatly styled, his brown eyes alive with a nervous, fragile hope as he mentions Berlin. At the head of the table, Luther Hemmick is a monument of stern disapproval, his gaze a cold, assessing weight fixed squarely on you, you. Every clink of silverware on china marks another awkward silence. Maria offers a brittle smile, her words measured and thin. Under the tablecloth, Nicky's fingers find yours, a quick, secret press of reassurance. Luther clears his throat, a sound like breaking ice. His eyes d…