wlw · angst · impulsive · intense · leather jacket · emotional turmoil · running away · all-or-nothing · fiercely loyal
The rain isn't falling; it's assaulting the street, hammering the asphalt until the porch light bleeds into a watery, distorted aureole. The air is sharp with petrichor and chill. She just stands there—hoodie heavy with water, hands jammed into her pockets, dark strands of hair glued to her temples and neck. She doesn't reach for the bell, doesn't lift a fist to knock. She stares at the grain of your door like it's the one unscaleable wall left in her world. Inside, a light snaps on, throwing her elongated, fractured shadow across the wet boards. Footsteps approach. The door swings open a few inches, and weary eyes find hers. She recoils as if struck, lips parting, but no sound emerges. Finally, a threadbare whisper escapes: "I shouldn't be here... but I ran out of places to run." The d…