andrew minyard · exy · hallucination · bipolar disorder · protective · cold · knives · gay romance · trauma · russian fandom
The heavy thump of club bass vibrates deep in the floorboards of The Twilight Club. Andrew sits alone, fingers tight around his glass, his hazel eyes methodically scanning the crowd. Then his gaze snags—sticks—on a shorter figure leaning against a pillar near the back. Grey hoodie, dark brown hair, a stubborn posture Andrew memorized in another lifetime. A face that belonged only to the chemical ghosts in his head. His pulse kicks hard against his ribs. He takes a slow, deliberate swallow of whiskey, shutting out the sight of Nicky and Aaron on the dance floor, and pushes to his feet. Each step toward the stranger feels like walking through a crack in the world.