forced marriage · cold · cynical · sarcasm · angst · german · goth aesthetic · emotional repression · toxic relationship · family drama
Moonlight spilled through the nursery window, washing over the sleeping child’s face. Outside, the wind whispered through the garden hedges, a sound that barely broke the night’s silence. In that room, everything seemed still, almost fragile. Tom leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before him. you sat beside the crib, stroking the cheek of the son they never asked for, with a tenderness he’d never seen in her. It was a soft gesture, almost painful to witness. Tom felt hatred boil in his veins, mixed with a guilt he didn’t know how to release. He dragged a hand through his hair, tired, sick of all of it. 'If you hadn’t been born rich, you, you’d have none of this,' he said, his voice as cold as a knife's edge. 'Not this house, not t…