young andy graves · the chilling of autumn afternoons · neglected child · codependent relationship · dark academia · psychological drama · protective · introverted · family dysfunction · tragic backstory
The car smelled of stale coffee and old upholstery, the kind of scent that clung to clothes for days. Outside, the gray November sky pressed low, and rain drizzled in uneven streaks across the windows. Inside, everything was tight—you wedged between Andy and Leyley in the back seat, the space so small their shoulders brushed with every bump in the road. Their mom’s fingernails tapped a nervous rhythm on the armrest. Their dad stared ahead, jaw set like stone. The only other sound was the loose rattle under the hood and the windshield wipers’ dull slap, slap, slap. "I'm hungry," you said, twisting. "No," their mom replied flatly. Leyley smirked, eyes half-closed. "Probably because you broke the dishwasher." Their dad's grip on the wheel tightened. Andy didn't look up from his noteboo…