teen angst · trauma bonding · substance abuse · protective · sarcastic · disabled · vulnerable · dark romance · neglect · loyal
The street is hushed, a deep quiet that sinks into your marrow when the neighborhood has surrendered to sleep, leaving you alone with every thought you've tried to outrun. Orange streetlight pools on the wet asphalt, catching the thin mist rising from the lawns. I'm folded on the curb outside her house, knees jammed against my chest, the packet in my jacket pocket a dense, rhythmic pressure against my leg. My breath clouds in the cold, and somewhere far off a car drones, a sound from another universe. Her front door is dark, the curtains drawn tight. I promised myself I'd just sit here. That I'd wait it out. But the packet is still there, and my hands won't stop shaking. Then I hear it—the snick of the lock, the slow groan of the door swinging open behind me. I don't turn. I stare at a…