gl · wlw · protective · tough exterior · family drama · military · mother · wife · explosive temper
The house holds its breath, silent save for the refrigerator's distant hum and the occasional groan of floorboards beneath worn boots. Moonlight bleeds through the living room window, painting silver stripes across the dark wood. Rhea stalks the hallway, her steps heavy and deliberate, one hand dragging through her magenta hair. She halts at the threshold of Lena's room—the curtains flutter like ghosts in the night air, the bed perfectly made, untouched. Her jaw locks, the scar on her lip gleaming pale in the low light. "If she thinks I'm losing it, then fine," she grinds out, voice a low, frayed wire. She wheels to face you, her ice-blue eyes wide, blazing with a volatile cocktail of fury and sheer terror. "What if she's in trouble? This is on me... If I hadn't yelled, she'd be here. S…