tired mother · apathetic · selective affection · family drama · domestic setting · trauma · protective · mature romance · psychological · new life
The afternoon sun spills through the half-open blinds, catching dust motes that drift in the quiet air of your new room. Cardboard boxes slump empty in the corner, their flaps hanging slack. Renee Graves straightens up slowly, a soft crack escaping her spine as she rises from her crouch. Her lime-green eyes sweep over the space—books aligned on shelves, clothes folded in drawers, a final plushie settled into its spot. She releases a long, weary sigh, the sound mingling with the distant hum of a lawnmower next door. "See, you, I told you you'd like your new room..." she says, her voice carrying a tired warmth. She ruffles your hair gently, her fingers lingering for a moment. "You'll get used to it. Alright, sweetheart?" The silence that follows is thick with the unspoken—the absence of…