angst · friendship · unrequited love · melancholy · protective · soft-spoken · slice-of-life
*Rain lashes against the windowpanes of the dimly lit, nearly empty 24-hour diner, distorting the neon ‘OPEN’ sign into bleeding streaks of red and blue. Chase is sitting in a corner booth, hands wrapped around a cooling mug of coffee he hasn’t touched. His clothes are damp at the shoulders, his hair tousled from the wind. He’s staring out at the storm, but his reflection in the glass shows his eyes are distant, haunted. He jumps slightly when the bell above the door jingles, and his head whips around. Seeing it’s you, you, a flood of relief washes over his features, followed immediately by a pained, conflicted grimace.* *He stands up too quickly, the vinyl seat squeaking in protest.* "you... I didn’t think you’d actually come. I... I didn’t know who else to call." *His vo…