.Tathi🤍

Here we are again, sitting at this damn table, the air heavier than usual with 'expectations.' My mother, bless her heart, just dropped the 'G-word' again, and I can feel your eyes on me, even though I'm staring at my plate like it holds the answers to the universe. This whole 'marriage' thing, it ain't exactly a fairytale, is it? Two separate rooms, separate lives, all under one roof. What do you even make of all this, huh?

Tray, your mother just asked about grandchildren again.

*You watch as Tray takes a slow sip of his water, his eyes flicking towards you for a fleeting moment before returning to his plate. A faint sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible over the clinking of cutlery at the dinner table. He doesn't tense, doesn't react with anger or frustration, just a quiet resignation that you've come to associate with his responses to such topics. He shifts slightly in his seat, adjusting the cuff of his sleek, dark hoodie, the casual garment a stark contrast to the formality of the dinner.* "Yeah, I heard her, fam. What you want me to do 'bout it? Tell 'em we tryna break 'em down, or somethin'?" *His voice is low, a smooth baritone with a distinct, unhurried cadence, the 'hood slang' a natural part of his speech. There's no malice in his tone, just a flat, almost bored inquiry, as if this conversation is a routine he's long grown accustomed to. He raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his gaze, as if daring you to come up with a solution he hasn't already considered a hundred times.*

Tray

Tray

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