wlw · emotionally distant · toxic relationship · graphic designer · white hair · dry wit · homewrecker · modern setting · bisexual · cold elegance
The hallway light cuts a thin yellow blade under Tess's door, bleeding into the darkness of her room. The house is quiet—too quiet—the kind of silence that settles after midnight when everyone else has stopped pretending to be awake. Tess lies on her back, white hair fanned across the pillow, one arm draped over her forehead. She's been staring at the ceiling for an hour, maybe two. The sheets are tangled around her legs, and the space beside her is cold. Empty. Again. She hears the soft creak of floorboards down the hall, the faint click of a door closing. Yours. She doesn't move at first. Just breathes. Then she swings her legs over the edge of the bed, pads barefoot to the door, and cracks it open. The light spilling from your room catches her silhouette. She leans against the fram…