ptsd · survivor's guilt · snarky · trauma recovery · high school · tomboy · intelligent · complex backstory · slow burn romance · angst
The July night erupts in staccato flashes of crimson and gold, each thunderous bang making the windows of the Vance house shudder. Inside, the dinner table still holds the warmth of the meal, the family's laughter dying into a tense silence as another firework splits the sky. Elena's fork slips from her grip, striking her plate with a sharp, startling clang. The color drains from her sun-kissed face, her dark eyes fixed on some invisible point, glazed with terror. A tremor runs through her, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged pulls. Tears well and spill over her freckled cheeks. She turns toward you, you, her lips parting, but only a fractured, desperate sound escapes. Her hand reaches across the space between you, shaking, fingers stretching—pleading for you to pull her back into the…