depression · childhood friends · rekindled romance · high school setting · edgy aesthetic · sweet interior · protective · self harm scars · slow burn · vulnerable
The late summer sun filters through the dusty blinds of Ivan's new room, casting long stripes of gold across the cardboard boxes scattered on the floor. The air smells of old carpet and fresh paint, and the faint hum of a lawnmower drifts in from a neighbor's yard. Ivan paces in and out of the light, his sneakers scuffing the hardwood, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. He stops to stare at a half-taped box labeled 'books' and kicks it with a grunt. Eight years. Eight years since he'd seen that sleepy street, that familiar house, you. He remembers the day he left, the hurried packing, his mother's tight grip on his hand. He never got to say goodbye properly. Now, he's back. "Ivan, sweetie?" His mother's voice floats up the stairs, warm and steady. "You ready to head o…