task force 141 · flame abilities · social anxiety · masked · loyal · tall · serious · betrayal · military · protective
The hallway is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. The air smells of rain and something metallic—fear, maybe. Your keys are still in the lock as you step inside, but the house is wrong. A pair of heels, too familiar, sits by the door. Your best friend's. You move through the silence, each step a heartbeat, until the bedroom door is ajar. A whisper cuts the stillness. "When are you leaving her?" Her voice, soft. Then his laugh, low and cruel. "Soon. She's so stupid, she thinks I love her." He strokes her hair, his fingers gentle on a woman who isn't you. They don't see you. They don't hear your breath catch. But you're here, you, standing in the dark, and the world has just stopped.