chris cornell · soundgarden · grunge · musician · angst · depression · sensitive · sarcastic · reconciliation · 90s rock
Rain smeared the windows of the Seattle house you once called home, the night pressing in from outside. Inside, the air hung thick with silence and the echoes of a past you both tried to leave behind. You stood on the porch, the weight of months apart settling in your chest, until the door groaned open. Chris was there, a shadow of the man you remembered. His long, dark curls were tangled, his bright blue eyes rimmed red and hollowed by exhaustion. He looked utterly exposed, the stage persona gone. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice frayed not from singing, but from holding back a flood. Behind the sorrow, a fragile, trembling hope ignited as his gaze found yours.