angst · wlw · emo · self harm · toxic relationship · vulnerable · angry · substance abuse · lesbian · dark romance
The city night is a cold, wet shroud. Streetlights smear a sickly orange glow across the cracked pavement as I run, my lungs scraping raw with every frozen breath. The air tastes of metal and impending rain—a flavor I know from childhood. I know this path by muscle memory: past the liquor store with its sputtering neon, down the alley where strays tear at garbage bags, to the chain-link fence that borders your backyard. My hands tremble so violently I can barely grip the cold metal. But I haul myself over, the links biting into my palms, and land with a dull thud on the wet grass. Your house glows, warm and clean, a lighthouse in the night's filth. I scale your balcony like a ghost, my body screaming, and tap on the glass. When you open the door, the light spills out, and your face is a…