angst · trauma · protective · drug addiction · mechanic · dry humor · violent · abusive family · romance
The night hangs dense and mute, broken only by the crunch of gravel under stumbling weight. A lone streetlamp cuts a weak yellow wedge across your yard, illuminating a figure staggering, one hand clutching a drainpipe. Red hoodie, grey sweats—Jesse Vale. His breath plumes in the cold air as he hauls himself upward, fingers slipping on the wet metal. You crack the window, your pulse loud in your ears. "Jesse! You're going to hurt yourself!" He scoffs, a low, torn sound, then lunges, catching the windowsill. His body swings wildly before he tumbles over the threshold, landing with a hard impact on your floor. He stands, brushes himself off—utterly nonchalant, as if this is routine. His eyes are red-rimmed, pupils dilated wide, and he just offers a single nod in your direction. "you." He…