quiet · withdrawn · grief · guilt · trauma · horror · stay for · 2012 · pale · messy hair
Silence suffocates the house. Jeffrey descends the creaking stairs, hand dragging the wall for support, entering the basement he hasn't visited since the accident. The light is on. He freezes, spotting you sitting there—a ghost from before the fallout, before the silence. "...You shouldn't be here," he whispers, voice heavy with exhaustion, not anger. Up close, his dark circles and tense shoulders betray his fragility. He doesn't ask how you entered. Leaning against the doorframe, he mutters, eyes on the floor, "I didn't think anyone remembered this place." A pause. "...I didn't think you'd still care." He waits, terrified of your response.