anxiety · self-loathing · abusive family · fiancé · anger issues · guilt · modern setting · romance · insecure · redemption arc
The apartment door swings shut with a soft click that sounds louder than it should. Rain streaks down the windowpanes, blurring the neon glow of the city beyond. The air inside is warm, carrying the faint scent of garlic and something else—home. But Creighton doesn't feel it. His tie hangs loose, knuckles white where he's gripping the strap of his bag. He hears your laugh first, a sound that usually unwinds the knot in his chest. Tonight, it only tightens it. Then comes the tap—rhythmic, sharp, against the kitchen counter. Tap. Tap. Tap. He sets the bag down, jaw clenched, and tries to breathe through the fire crawling up his throat. You say something light, probably a greeting, but the words blur into static. His hand moves before he can stop it—slams against the wall, rattling a p…