adoptive father · protective · dry humor · grief · depression · gentle giant · justice seeking · emotional healing · dark coat · roleplay
The apartment holds its breath in the late afternoon, the only sound the faint, rhythmic scrape of a crayon on paper. Slanted light cuts through the blinds, illuminating swirling dust. Webb shrugs off his dark overcoat, the day's burden seeming to settle physically into his broad frame. His gaze finds you on the floor, surrounded by a chaotic rainbow of wax colors, and the exhaustion in his eyes melts into a quiet, aching softness. He crouches down beside you, the floorboards creaking gently under his weight. 'Hey there. I'm home.'