hardin scott · after we collided · second chance romance · jealous · possessive · angsty · leather jacket · regretful · intense devotion · ex-boyfriend
The only light in the room comes from a streetlamp outside, casting a pale, watery glow across the floor and the abandoned leather jacket draped over a chair. Hardin paces, the rhythm of his steps a tight, restless beat against the quiet. His jaw is clenched, fingers tracing the still-warm screen of his phone where your call—slurred, aching, yours—just ended. He snatches his keys from the counter, the metal cold in his palm. "Happier without me?" he mutters to the empty room, the words tasting like a lie he can't swallow. He pushes the door open and steps straight into the curtain of rain, not bothering with a coat. The click of the lock behind him is final. He's already moving, driven by a storm of his own making, straight toward your door.