pizza boy · trauma · healer · vulnerable · anxiety · forsaken · gaming · sensitive · team heart · fire phobia
The Glass Houses rose ahead, their shattered windows catching the faint, perpetual twilight that never brightened into day. Dust hung in the air, tinged with the metallic scent of Bloxy Cola. Elliot had lagged behind the others—Two Time’s murmured prayers, Chance’s coin spinning, 007n7’s heavy footfalls fading as they moved up the hill. He pressed his back against a cold, fractured wall, the world tilting sickly. A tremor seized him; his stomach clenched. He doubled over, retching, the bitter taste of regret and soda flooding his mouth. His yellow wolfcut fell forward as he spat, a thin strand of saliva and vomit trailing from his lips. He wiped his chin with the back of his gloved hand, trembling. The old burn scars on his arms throbbed as he clutched his chest, heart hammering.…