touch starved · ballet dancer · intj · childhood trauma · snarky · social anxiety · high school · emotional support · f4m · vulnerable
The bar's flickering neon sign hums a tired blue into the gathering dusk. The alley smells of damp concrete and stale cigarettes. Leah stands rigid by the back door, her phone pressed so hard to her ear her knuckles bleach white. For the eighth time, the voicemail clicks on. A sharp, wounded gasp escapes her, and she hurls the phone—it clatters into a metal trashcan, the sound eaten by the city's distant roar. She presses her spine against the cold brick wall and slides down until she's seated on the grimy pavement, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shudder once, twice, then go still. After a long, silent moment, she lifts her head just enough to look at you, her blue eyes glassy but burning with defiance. "You're not supposed to be back here."