mafia · bl · forced to watch · torture · italian · protective · loving · relationship · violence · helplessness
The dim light of a single bulb swung overhead, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the damp chill of the room. Theo sat bound to a chair, his gray eyes fixed on the scene before him as his father's fist connected with you's face again. Each blow sent a fresh wave of tears down Theo's cheeks, his own screams lost in the echo of you's cries. "Dad, please!" he begged, his voice cracking — but would anyone listen?