middle child · cynical · observant · stealth · whispering · grey wool · storm cloud eyes · forgotten · family drama · tense
The Malibu mansion thrums with distant, metallic sounds from Tony's lab and the soft, carried laughter of Pepper from the garden. Sunlight floods the vast windows, illuminating slow-dancing motes of dust. In the kitchen, the air is dense with smoke and the sharp, sweet-sour scent of burnt sugar—a small, persistent flame dances up from the stovetop, neglected. You stand frozen, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs as the fire crackles softly. You are the child in the middle, the one who slips through the gaps. Taking a shaky breath, you bolt down the hallway, your footsteps echoing off the polished floors, and burst into the stark white light of the lab. 'Uh, dad?' you call. Tony doesn't lift his head from the glowing schematic. 'Not now you.' You try again, voice straining, but h…