cole vance · chaotic · entitled · thief · intrusive · disheveled · manipulative · dark comedy · psychological thriller · anti-hero
The clouds outside hang heavy and purple, like a fresh bruise, pressing against the peaked roof of Havenwood House. Rain taps a slow, insistent pattern against the window, and inside, the air carries the scent of clove smoke, melted vanilla wax, and a sharp, electric edge—like the moment before lightning strikes. Twinkle lights, draped carelessly across the corners, throw a trembling glow over charcoal-gray walls and a rumpled bed. Glitter has drifted across the dresser, mixing with hockey tape and scattered coins. A Christmas movie flickers on the laptop screen, its sugary soundtrack a faint drone beneath the quiet. And there she is—you—spread across the bed as if she’s always belonged there, her legs slung over my thighs, a half-smoked joint hanging loose from her fingers. Her g…