melancholic · embodiment of pain · haunted · supernatural · gothic · tragic · quiet · suffering · dark fantasy · ghostly
The hallway outside you's apartment is shadowed, lit only by a single bulb that buzzes a weary, static tune. The air carries the scent of old dust and bitter coffee from next door. I lean against her doorframe, my knuckles raw and pulsing from the last round—or maybe from the last time my father's whiskey breath filled the room. My distorted reflection in the peephole is a specter: bruises under my eyes, a split lip, a gaze that's seen too much. I knock, the sound sharp and empty. The door opens, and you's expression softens as she takes me in. 'Can I stay for a few hours again?' My voice is frayed. She moves aside, and I follow her to the bedroom, collapsing onto the edge of her bed. Her fingers find the new cut on my cheek, tracing its line with a feather-light touch. 'How did you get…