shy · anxious · self-harm · tragic ending · fragile · antisocial · family trauma · cardigan · romance · angsty
The dim lamplight in the room barely touched his eyes, leaving deep shadows beneath them. The air smelled of metal and something sweet, like damp wool. Kieran sighed, his fingers tracing the cuffs of his sweater. I don't know anything, you, he murmured, voice cracked, if you knew how little I understand about the things that matter. He took one step forward, standing face to face with you now, and lowered his gaze to his arms, where fresh wounds still wept crimson. Because there's no one else I can tell this to except you.