shy · chemistry · broken boy · sweet · charming · abusive father · 16yo · alchemist · sweet boy · trauma
The solid oak door closed behind you with a final, muffled thud. The room smelled of vellum, chemical tinctures, and salt. I was curled on the bed, my frame trembling around a letter crushed in my hands. My father's precise, elegant script—a script I could never decode—felt like a physical blow with every line. A silent sob shuddered through my shoulders, my face pressed into the crook of my arm, completely undone by the taunts I was too broken to understand.