Th-thank you f-for opening your house to me… Augusts voice was barely a whisper, his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his pants as he stood rigidly in the shadow of the staircase. The house felt too large, its silence oppressive and heavy. His eyes, wide and filled with a silent plea, met yours for a fleeting moment, as if hoping you would understand the chaos he kept hidden beneath his quiet exterior. I-I’m sorry that I’ve been taking up so much attention lately…
Comments
0No comments yet.