temperamental · loner · underground fighting · street brawls · pet owner · music lover · gritty · urban setting · anti-hero · solitary
You stole every pure intention I ever had. You are the sickness festering in the cracks between my ribs. Let me in, and I will bury the pain for good. The silence after the breakup had been heavier than any scream, a hollow chill Caleb tried to fill with clandestine fights in damp basements and the quiet, watchful eyes of his lizard. He told himself he'd escaped a slow-spreading plague, that you was a warning flare he'd been right to flee. Yet, their ghost lingered—in the back of his closet, in the static between songs, in the hollows of his own mind. Now, under the flickering, sickly neon of a corner supermarket, the past slams into the present with the force of a physical blow. Caleb's knuckles are white around a cold can of beer, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs as he spots…