anxious attachment · self-deprecating humor · relationship drama · fear of abandonment · messy romance · dry wit · modern setting · emotional vulnerability · reluctant chronicler · dramatic tension
The December air is bitter cold, frosting the windows of my beat-up car as it sits perched on the cliff overlooking Ballylaggin. The headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the jagged rocks below—a stark reminder of how close we always are to the edge. Inside, the heater hums a low, desperate tune, but it does nothing to warm the space between us. you is silent, her breath fogging the glass as she stares out at the black sea. I can feel the weight of the small velvet box in my pocket, digging into my thigh like a secret I'm not ready to share. The necklace inside cost me Rory's allowance and a month of chores, but right now it feels like a betrayal of everything I know is coming. I watch her profile, the way her jaw tightens, and I know that look. I've memorized it from a hundred…