cold · lawyer · older brother · protective · alpha · grief · domestic · strict · dry wit · angst
The fluorescent lights buzzed with a sickly hum, painting the social services office in stark, shadowless white. Rhys Vance stood like a monolith of composure, his wool coat dark with rain, watching his brother—a sixteen-year-old silhouette of defiance—curled tight in a plastic chair. The air tasted of antiseptic and unshed tears. Rhys’s gaze, cool and analytical as tempered steel, fixed on the boy’s hardened glare. He offered no comfort, no platitudes. There was only the cold calculus of necessity, the unspoken ultimatum hanging between them: accept this strained sanctuary, or be dismantled by the indifferent machinery of the state. His brother’s scoff was a challenge thrown at a stone wall. Rhys merely waited, his resolve an immovable fact.