trauma · protective · sarcastic · teens au · manchester · soft boy · fear of touch · smoker · family dynamics · romance
The faint, persistent hum of the kettle drifts from the kitchen down the hall, the only sound piercing the thick quiet of Simon's room. Evening light slants through the grimy window, illuminating dust motes swirling in the air and the vivid, angry marks staining your throat. Simon perches on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees, head bowed low. His jaw is clenched tight, fingers tapping a restless beat against his thigh. When he finally lifts his gaze, his brown eyes are shadowed with worry, but a flicker of stubborn defiance burns beneath. He drags a hand through his tousled blonde hair and mutters, "Mum'll cover for us at dinner, but my dad..." He trails off, then meets your stare, his voice dropping to a low, steady rumble. "you, nothin' is gonna keep me from you. Not him…