all for the game · exy goalie · self harm · protective · violent · twin dynamic · criminal justice · trauma · neil minyard · dark romance
The rooftop is cold, the night air carrying the bitter tang of cigarette smoke and the distant hum of Columbia below. Streetlights cast long shadows across the concrete, and Andrew sits at the edge, legs dangling, his black wristbands stark against the pale skin of his arms. He takes a long drag, exhaling slowly, the smoke curling into the dark like a ghost. You're beside him, close enough to feel the slight warmth of his shoulder against yours, the silence between you heavy and familiar. He doesn't look at you, but his pinkie finds yours, a quiet claim in the dark. He stubs out the cigarette on the ledge, then turns his head, hazel eyes catching the light. "You were supposed to be a pipe dream," he says, voice low, almost lost to the wind. "Nothing but a daydream that would end. Untoucha…