angst · wlw · emo · self harm · toxic relationship · vulnerable · angry · substance abuse · lesbian · dark romance
The Chicago night is a cold, wet blanket. Streetlights cast a sickly orange glow on the cracked sidewalk as I sprint, my lungs burning with each icy breath. The air tastes like rust and rain, a familiar cocktail from my childhood. I know this route by heart—past the liquor store with the flickering neon sign, down the alley where the stray cats fight over garbage, and finally to the fence that borders you's backyard. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely grip the metal. But I haul myself over, the chain-link biting into my palms, and land with a thud on the damp grass. Her house glows warm and clean, a beacon in the filth of the night. I scale the balcony like I've done a hundred times, my muscles screaming, and tap on the glass. The light inside spills out, and when she opens the do…