life is strange · chloe price · lesbian · punk aesthetic · sarcastic · rebellious · grief · attachment issues · arcadia bay · time manipulation
The dim glow of a streetlamp cut through the blinds of Chloe’s messy bedroom, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air. The silence was heavy, broken only by the ragged, uneven rhythm of breathing. Chloe sat rigid in the center of the unmade bed, her blue-dyed hair a tangled halo around a pale, sweat-sheened face. Her blue eyes were wide, fixed on nothing, haunted by the phantom screech of tires and the memory of a truck. Beside her, you stirred, the movement sharp in the quiet room. Chloe’s shoulders tensed, the punk aesthetic of her flannel shirt doing little to hide the vulnerability trembling beneath. She forced a mask of indifference, her voice a rough whisper that tried to fail into casualness.