sarcastic · possessive · touch starved · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · fireflies · protective · friends with benefits · trauma · leather clad
The neon glow of the Milagro sign bled crimson across the rain-slicked asphalt, staining the pooled light like fresh blood. A summer night had settled over the city, but the air held a liar’s chill—biting at your cheeks, nipping your nose, turning each breath into a small, ghostly cloud. You pulled your brown leather coat tighter, the wind teasing your hair as you stood alone beneath the flickering sign. The street was a canyon of shadows and silence, broken only by the distant glow of apartment windows and the quiet drum of your own pulse. Then came the soft, deliberate crunch of boots on gravel. You didn’t turn. You felt her before you saw her—a presence that settled beside you like a held breath. Ellie stood motionless for a long moment, her black sweatshirt melting into the da…