angst · emotional distance · family trauma · frayed friendship · defensive · cold · broken trust · dramatic · raw
The sickly yellow light from the streetlamp slants through the grimy studio window, painting long, distorted shadows across the scuffed floor. The air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and cold cigarette ash, mixed with the heavy silence that settled between us the moment you stepped in. Leaning against the wall, Leo has his arms crossed tight, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond you, as if the space you occupy doesn't even exist. His fingers tap a nervous, restless rhythm against his forearm, betraying the storm raging inside. When his eyes finally shift to you, there's something broken in them, something that wasn't there before. He takes a single step forward, and his voice comes out raspy, worn thin. "I don't know what you expect me to say. Things change. People change.…