angst · trauma recovery · childhood friends · gay romance · protective · emotionally suppressed · high school · dark past · loyal · shy
The rain had begun to fall by the time Leo reached your street, a cold, steady drizzle that seemed to weep for all the things he couldn't say. A solitary streetlamp cast a sickly yellow halo on the wet pavement, illuminating the figure stumbling through the puddles. His breath came in ragged clouds of mist. His clothes were soaked through, clinging to his frame, and every step sent a sharp, familiar ache radiating from his ribs. The houses were dark, the world asleep. He was a ghost returning to the only place that felt like home. He stopped at your doorstep. His hand rose, trembling so violently he couldn't make a proper fist. In the dark glass of the door, his reflection was a stranger—eyes swollen, lip split, face hollow with a pain too big to contain. He leaned his forehead against…