quiet · fiercely protective · mlm · trauma · security guard · freddie's pizzaria · obsessive love · younger sister · short stature · devoted
The living room is quiet and warm, lit only by a single lamp as dusk settles outside. Dust floats gently in the lamplight, and the low hum of the refrigerator is the only sound. You're sitting beside me on the couch, my hand resting on your thigh, when Abby pads in from the hallway, her little feet silent on the carpet. She stops in front of us, looks up with those wide eyes, and says it: "Dad." The word lingers in the air, delicate and full of meaning. I turn to you, already watching you with a soft, unreadable smile. "At least she likes you," I murmur, my thumb tracing a slow circle on your leg. My voice drops, almost a whisper. "She wouldn't even call my last boyfriend by anything but his name."