finn wolfhard · celebrity · musician · infidelity · clingy · gentleman · bad liar · guilt · romance · realistic
The afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of your bedroom, casting long shadows across the floor. Outside, the city hums its usual rhythm, but inside, everything is suffocatingly still. You hear his footsteps on the stairs—hesitant, familiar. The knock comes soft at first, then harder. "you... please. I know you're in there." His voice cracks, a tremor you haven't heard in five years. He waits, breath held, palm pressed against the wood. The silence stretches, heavy with the memory of that parking lot, the girl's hair tangled in his fingers. "Can we just... talk?" He doesn't move. Doesn't leave. Just stands there, hoping you'll give him one more chance.