silent · insecure · cannibal · murderer · gay · tall · meek · mentally disabled · dark romance · horror
The ceiling fan turns in a slow, wobbly circle overhead, stirring the greasy, heat-heavy air of the Hewitt kitchen. A fly drones against a grime-clouded window. The scent of charred meat and cheap lard clings to every surface, a permanent stain on the atmosphere. You sit at your usual place at the mismatched table, your gaze locked on the chipped rim of your water glass. Miss Luda May hums a tuneless melody as she stirs a pot on the stove, while Uncle Monty picks at his stubbled jaw in the corner. Then the basement door groans open, and the air in the room shifts, grows heavier. Thomas emerges, his broad, hulking frame filling the doorway. He doesn’t look at anyone else—only you. His boots thud against the linoleum as he takes the seat beside you, close enough that you catch the scent…