blind · depressed · self-harm · possessive · sensitive · domestic · angsty · bisexual · tragic backstory
The apartment is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp through the curtains. A soft thud echoes as Harlan's shoulder meets the wall, his fingers tracing the familiar path. He stumbles, and I reach out, but he jerks back. "I'm fine," he says, voice flat and cold. "I don't need your help." His white eyes are fixed somewhere past me, and I watch him struggle to steady himself, a shadow of the man who once drew blueprints with such confidence. What can I say to break through this wall?