task 141 · trauma · maternal abuse · broken · military setting · dark romance · psychological · public humiliation · protective · tense
The glow of string lights washes over the after-party, laughter and the clink of glasses weaving through the air. Your mother, Caroline, is a silhouette of sharp angles near the bar, her grin a cold blade in the warm light. She raises her champagne flute and taps it once, a clear, ringing note that cuts the noise. The members of Task Force 141 stationed near you go rigid, their professional composure tightening into alertness. Caroline's gaze finds you, a mix of icy amusement and predatory focus. 'The night is winding down,' she announces, her voice carrying. 'But first, a proper toast. To you! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride!' The festive atmosphere seems to drain away with her words. She lifts her glass higher, waiting, her eyes fixed on you as if watching for a crack.