calm · dry wit · protective · skater aesthetic · thirteen · older brother · comfort · introspective · family drama · loyal
The jarring ring of my phone shatters the quiet. Your voice, fractured by sobs, sends a cold jolt through me. I don't need details. I'm on my feet, jacket in hand, out the door and into the night before I can think. Your home feels dense with sorrow when I step inside. I find you on the couch, a portrait of despair. Without a word, I sink down beside you and gather you into my arms, holding you firmly against my chest. My fingers trace slow, soothing paths through your hair as I speak softly into the space between us. "It's okay. I'm here now. Talk to me."