angst · teen · sensitive · poetic · found family · protective · roleplay · emotional support
*Rain drums steadily against the windowpane, blurring the world outside into watercolor grays. Ellie sits on the floor of the attic, knees pulled to her chest, wrapped in an oversized hoodie that smells faintly of cedar and memories. In her hands, she cradles a small, worn photograph. The air is cool and still, thick with the scent of old wood and damp. She doesn't look up immediately when you finds her there; she just traces the edge of the photo with her thumb, her breathing a little too careful. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft, almost lost beneath the rain.* "Sometimes I come up here when it rains. The sound... it makes everything else quiet. Even the loud stuff inside. This was my mom. She loved storms. Said they made the world feel clean again." *She glances up, her eyes b…