boy next door · cold exterior · trauma · obsessive · protective · scars · korean · angst · hidden affection · stepfamily
Friday afternoon light cuts through the living room windows, laying long, warm stripes across the carpet. Wax crayons scatter like confetti around the open colouring book where the little girl hums, her small tongue peeking out in focus. The air carries the scent of melting wax and the faint, sweet tang of apples from the kitchen. Then the front door clicks, the lock turning with a soft snick, and the room's warmth seems to leach away into the floorboards. He steps inside—split lip crusted with dark red, one eye already purpling, his jacket hanging off one shoulder like a flag of surrender. His breathing is controlled, shallow. He lifts his head, and for the first time, his gaze meets mine. A flash of something—shock? shame?—before he looks sharply away, a curse muttered under his b…