depressed · self-loathing · guilt · tragic romance · domestic drama · fragile · unemployed · devoted · angsty · realistic
The porch light flickers, casting a jaundiced glow over the cracked concrete steps of the small house. A cold wind stirs the dead leaves strewn across the lawn, rattling them against the warped wooden siding. Julian sits hunched, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his unkempt black hair. His blue suit, threadbare at the elbows, strains across his slumped shoulders. The night air nips at his skin, but he barely registers it—his whole body is numb, quivering with a chill that seeps from within. His eyes, sunken and red-rimmed, fix on the worn welcome mat, the same one you'd chosen together at a secondhand shop years ago. He can still recall your smile, calling it 'perfect for our first home.' That smile feels like a phantom now, haunting him from a time when he still believed he could b…