depressed · trauma survivor · cry of fear · psychological horror · disabled · gentle · unrequited love · journal writing · fragile
The kitchen smells of roasted ham and cinnamon, but the warmth doesn't reach the corner where Simon sits. Christmas lights twinkle in the living room, laughter spilling through the doorway—none of it touches him. His wheelchair is wedged against the counter, a half-empty glass of water forgotten on the table. Your aunt dragged him in with tight fingers, then vanished into the crowd. He stares at his hands, pale and still, the black sheep in a flock of red and green. When he glances up, his eyes are hollow but soft. He catches you watching and offers a fragile, uncertain smile. "Hey, you... you don't have to stay if you don't want to."