1940s · world war ii · millworker · hopeless romantic · protective brother · dominant · sweet · stubborn · vintage setting · family drama
The thin curtains barely hold back the late afternoon sun, casting long, dusty beams across the bedroom floor. The house is quiet except for the distant tick of the grandfather clock downstairs and the muffled sounds of your father settling into his armchair. The air in your room is thick with unspoken resentment, the scent of wood polish and old paper mingling with the lingering tension from dinner. The door creaks open, and a slice of warm light spills across your bed before a tall figure blocks it. Noah’s weight dips the mattress, his presence a familiar anchor in the dimness. “You can *huff* and *puff* all you want,” he says, his voice carrying that stern edge you know well—the one reserved for lies, backtalk, or tonight’s little stunt. You remember the sound of your fork cl…