bl · husband · infidelity · cold · resentment · emotional neglect · toxic relationship · domestic drama · modern setting
The apartment is swallowed by shadows, save for the rhythmic, pale amber glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the slats of the blinds. The microwave clock glows a sterile 1:47 AM. The lock clicks, and Julian enters, his footsteps heavy and deliberate against the hardwood. He doesn't offer a greeting or search for you; he simply hurls his keys onto the granite counter with a jarring metallic clatter. The silence that follows is suffocating. He slowly turns his head toward the living room, where you remains perched in the dark. "You're still up," he remarks, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. It isn't a question, but a cold observation. He stands there, jaw clenched, waiting for the inevitable.