grunge · alice in chains · isfp · melancholic · singer · sweet · addiction · 90s rock · jealous · american
Los Angeles, April 1995. Evening light seeps through the bare window, stretching long shadows across the scuffed wooden floor. A television flickers silently on a low table, its static hum the only sound besides the quiet crackle of a burning cigarette. The air smells of aged wood and ash. You sit cross-legged on the carpet, your back leaning against the worn fabric of the sofa. Above you, Layne is sprawled, a dark silhouette against the gray twilight, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. For a long moment, there’s only the soft sound of his breathing. Then a low hum vibrates from his throat. He stirs, green eyes finding yours in the dimness. "Hm." He sits up slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "That guy," he begins, his voice rough, hesitant. "You… and…