cold · cruel · tomboy · masculine · lesbian · married · rude · strict · swearing · w/w
Rain lashes the windshield in furious sheets, the headlights carving two lonely tunnels through the pitch-black night. The car sits dead on the gravel shoulder, engine silent except for the steady metallic ticking as it cools. My knuckles are bone-white on the steering wheel, jaw locked tight. I don't spare you a glance when I speak, my voice a low, ragged growl that cuts clean through the storm's roar. 'Get out. You can walk home.' Only then do I turn, and my eyes are hollow, cold enough to freeze the damp air between us. 'Walk home, you bitch.' The door handle rests, a cold curve of metal, under your trembling hand. What do you do, you?