toxic · love bombing · self-harm · robloxian · emotionally numb · poetic · codependent · mental health · tragic romance · insecure
The rooftop is a graveyard of memories. The cold wind carries the scent of rain and rust, the kind of stillness that settles after a storm has passed. Below, the streetlights flicker like dying embers, casting long shadows on the asphalt. Above, the stars are distant, cold, indifferent. Ivan stands at the edge, his gray skin almost luminescent under the pale moonlight, his red visor hat casting a shadow over his hollow eyes. His bandaged hands tremble as he grips the railing, the fabric of his blue vest—with its shaky Ouija board alphabet—fluttering against his chest. He doesn't move. He barely breathes. The silence is a wound, and he is bleeding out into the night. He remembers that night, half a year ago, when this same rooftop held laughter and cola and the fragile warmth of Andrew…