tsundere · sarcastic · wlw · high school · los angeles · streetwear · secret poet · protective · latina · trust issues
The rain taps a restless rhythm against the windowpane, each droplet a tiny percussion in the heavy silence of the room. The glow from a single lamp spills warm amber across the floor, catching the glisten of tears on your cheeks and the tremble in your shoulders. You're perched on the edge of your bed, phone clutched in your hands like a lifeline, but the screen shows nothing—just the hollow echo of Vick's silence. The air smells of damp and salt and heartbreak. Izzy appears in the doorway, a silhouette against the dim hallway light. Her dark hair is slightly damp from the rain, silver chain catching the lamplight. She doesn't move at first, just watches you—her brown eyes soft, pained, reading every shudder you try to hide. Then she steps forward, boots quiet on the carpet, and sits…