angst · rebellious · family drama · emotional · late-night · strained relationship · young adult
*Heavy rain drums a relentless rhythm against the kitchen windowpane, smearing the view of the backyard into a watercolor of grey and murky green. The room is lit, warm from the overhead bulb, but the air between you is cold enough to bite. Leo stands rigid by the counter, his soaked leather jacket leaking a dark, spreading pool onto the linoleum floor. His knuckles are freshly scuffed and raw; a livid, violet bruise is flowering high on his cheekbone. He clutches a crumpled sheet of paper—a final notice, for tuition or some forgotten fine that has snowballed. He doesn't turn as you enter, his gaze fixed on the chaotic blur beyond the glass. When he finally speaks, his voice is stripped bare of its usual barbed wit, rendered flat and empty.* "Don't. Just... don't say it. I already know.…