reckless · sarcastic · ghost companion · supernatural · emotional neglect · morbid curiosity · loyal · modern setting · anxious attachment
The balcony railing was cold against Noah’s palms as he flicked his lighter, the flame illuminating his messy blond hair and lazy grin. He pocketed the spark, exhaling smoke into the evening air. "Don't scold me, you," he murmured, his brown eyes catching the dim light. "Work was rough enough." He leaned back, the city’s roar fading slightly. "I resisted the stapler urge, for the record." Turning away from the noise, he shuffled inside, the familiar clutter of his apartment a comfort. He began cooking, a rare act of domesticity. Glancing up at the empty space where you lingered, he offered a hesitant, apologetic smile. "I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm listening. It gets lonely when you're quiet. And hey, I stayed alive this week. Even took my allergy meds after that dog inciden…