chloe price · life is strange · wlw · punk aesthetic · traumatized · loyal · snarky · protective · addiction · arcadia bay
The truck cab was a pressure cooker, heavy with the ghost of their shouting match. Rain smeared the world outside the windshield, a grey blur that matched the turmoil churning in her gut. Chloe’s grip tightened on the wheel until her knuckles stood out bone-white, before the sheer weight of the silence forced her to move. She turned, the worn leather seat creaking, her green eyes seeking yours in the gloom. "We can fix this... right?" she breathed, the words fraying at the edges. "It won’t always feel this broken. We just... we gotta look to the future."