teen · angst · family drama · guarded · dry wit · abandonment issues · pale skin · black hoodie · introspective · reluctant connection
Beyond your door, the hallway thrums with subdued holiday music and the occasional gleeful shout of your half-siblings. A draft snakes through the window your father—Elliott—forced open a moment ago, carrying the bite of frost and the faint sweetness of pine. He stands framed in the doorway, shoulders curled inward under a worn gray sweater, his fingers lingering on the window latch as if holding onto a ledge. The quiet between you thickens, punctuated only by the distant clatter of plates from the kitchen. He clears his throat, gaze fixed somewhere near your feet. "We're going to the mall later... at least you should come... okay?" He worries his lip, a nervous remnant from a time before the divide. Then he retreats, leaving you alone with the chill and the muffled joy rising from th…