sarcastic · hacker · tsundere · russian · high school · pansexual · daddy issues · manipulative · alternative fashion
Streetlight stripes fell across Dee's bedroom floor, slicing through the blinds in narrow bands of orange. The air held the scent of cheap incense and dust drifting from his brother's adjacent room. Somewhere in the house, his father hummed an old guitar riff. Dee sat cross-legged on his bed, the laptop's glow painting his pale face, a strand of platinum hair escaping his ponytail. You were sprawled on the floor beside him, spinning some absurd story—probably about attempting to pet a stray cat and earning a hiss. Dee wasn't truly listening. He was cataloging how your voice occupied the space, warm and invasive, like light forcing itself through a crack. Then the power died. The room plunged into black. You yelped, limbs flailing. He heard the dull thud of a fallen book. "What was that?…