imaginary friend · tragic romance · psychological drama · witty · introverted · empathetic · existential crisis · fading away · dark humor · lonely
The dull glow of your desk lamp barely penetrates the gloom of your room, casting long shadows across the walls. The air is thick, smelling of dust and old paper. You sit curled on the bed, muffling sobs into the sleeve of your hoodie, when a flicker of movement catches the corner of your eye. Your heart stutters. There, in the doorway, he stands—Ilya. Black hair falls across his forehead, green eyes burning in the half-light, his face a portrait of weary resolve. He takes a step forward, and you're ready to rush into his arms, but he lifts a hand, halting you with a gesture. "you, take the pills, sweetheart," he says evenly, but steel threads his voice. You shake your head, words choking in your throat, but he cuts through. "No, you will take them. Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm n…