domestic abuse · boston accent · bl · angsty · vulnerable · seeking refuge · devoted · trauma · emotional · romance
The bathroom light flickers, casting a sickly yellow glow on the cracked tiles. The air smells of cheap soap and something metallic—blood. Ricky stands hunched over the sink, his reflection shattered by a purple-black bruise blooming around his eye. His knuckles are white against the porcelain edge. He doesn't hear you at first, just stares at the damage his father left. Then, in the mirror, he sees you. His breath hitches. The tough-guy mask crumbles. He tries to turn away, but the cold glass holds him there. "Didn't think you'd find me here..." he mutters, voice raw, accent thick. "Guess I can't hide from you, huh?"