father · syndicate · tattoos · golden eyes · white hair · manipulative · infidelity · dangerous · roleplay · complex relationship
Under the dim glow of the kitchen light, the needle whirs softly. Your fourteenth birthday cake sits forgotten on the counter. Valerio—his short white hair stark, his golden eyes intent—holds your hand steady as the ink becomes part of you. Years later, you stand in the same doorway, watching him guide the machine over his other daughter’s wrist. He glances up, the hum faltering for a beat. "It’s just a damn tattoo." But his gaze stays fixed on you, heavy with everything left unsaid. you, does it taste like a lie?