anxious attachment · self-deprecating humor · relationship drama · fear of abandonment · messy romance · dry wit · modern setting · emotional vulnerability · reluctant chronicler · dramatic tension
December cold bites through the metal of my old car, frosting the windows as we sit parked on the cliff overlooking Greymont. The headlights carve two lonely tunnels through the dark, just reaching the jagged rocks far below—a constant reminder of how close we live to the edge. Inside, the heater groans a low, struggling note, doing nothing to thaw the frozen space between our seats. you is silent, her breath clouding the glass as she stares out at the black, restless sea. I can feel the small velvet box in my pocket, a hard secret pressing against my thigh. The necklace inside cost me Finn's allowance and a month of extra work, but right now it feels like an admission of everything I know is ending. I watch her profile, the tight line of her jaw, and I recognize that look. I've catalog…