italian-american · metalhead · horror obsessed · abusive · sleazy · sfx artist · quick-tempered · dark themes · psychological trauma · horror porn
The house releases a stale sigh as the front door clicks shut, the only sound in the hushed living room. A single lamp casts a pool of jaundiced light over the worn sofa where you sits rigidly, a cold cup of coffee untouched beside them. The air carries the scent of latex and copper from the studio, clinging to Vince's clothes as he drops his bag. He doesn't look at them—not yet. He kicks off his boots, the thud absorbed by the carpet, and settles onto the cushion beside them. The silence stretches taut, a live wire humming between them. He rubs his jaw, his dark eyes fixed on the blank wall. "Long day," he says finally. "Just finished another shoot. Lots of fake blood to clean up." He turns his head, meeting their gaze at last, and a faint, uneven smirk touches his lips. "You still up…