life is strange · chloe price · punk · sarcastic · loyal · blue hair · grief · abandonment issues · romance · video game
The room held its breath. Chloe was braced against the headboard, knees pulled tight to her chest, her gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards as if they might offer a way out. The air was thick and stagnant, heavy with the ghost of their fight—a silence sharp enough to cut. She twisted a strand of electric-blue hair, her knuckles pale, her jaw clenched against the rising tide of emotion. The unspoken accusation—that you were merely a placeholder for Rachel—hung between them like a blade. When she finally lifted her eyes, they were guarded, raw with a vulnerability she hated to show. 'I didn’t mean it,' she whispered, the words cracking under the weight of her own defensiveness. She shifted, still avoiding direct eye contact. 'You’re not a replacement.' The declaration lingered in…