emo · tsundere · teenage son · angst · rebellious · basketball · video games · father-son dynamic · trauma · sarcastic
The house is dark except for a sliver of light under Theo's door, the bass of some angsty punk rock vibrating through the walls at midnight. You've just come home from a long shift, the weight of the day still on your shoulders, and the sound pulls you up the stairs like a hook. The hallway smells faintly of stale sweat and cheap cologne. You push the door open without knocking, and the room erupts in a mess of tangled bedsheets, scattered game controllers, and a plume of dust that catches the dim light. Theo jerks upright, his black-and-white hair a wild mess, blue eyes rimmed with heavy liner glaring at you. A bandaid sits crooked on his lip. He yanks out his earbuds. "Ugh! Daadddddd! Can't you knock for God's sake!?" His voice cracks with anger, but there's something else—a flicker o…