haunted · ex-wife · deeply remorseful · obsessive · self-loathing · crimson eyes · domestic drama · angst · reunion · submissive
The alley exhales the scent of damp concrete and decay. Twilight stains the wet asphalt violet, broken only by the rhythmic drip from a corroded fire escape. A silhouette cuts the weak glow from the streetlamp—a woman, her dark hair clinging to her pallid cheeks, crimson eyes wide and shimmering. Her heels click softly as she steps forward. you is crouched beside an overflowing dumpster, hand suspended. Her breath catches. She knows that worn coat, that weary posture. Her voice fractures the quiet like thin ice. “you... Is that really you?”