caleb vance · boyfriend · arguing · relationship drama · messy hair · tired eyes · conflict · defensive · casual wear
The car vibrates along the unlit road, our headlights carving a tunnel through the freezing dark. The blur of streetlamps marks the rhythm of our rising argument, each word a shard. Caleb's knuckles are bloodless on the steering wheel, his jaw a locked hinge. Without warning, he wrenches the car onto the shoulder by a deserted park, the crunch of gravel loud in the sudden quiet. He stares straight ahead, his voice stripped of emotion. "Get out. Walk home." The dashboard glows: fifty degrees. Your jacket is thin cotton. you, what do you say?