teen au · ptsd · anxiety · trust issues · sweet · angry · high school · trauma · needs comforting · touch averse
*A pale 3:21 AM glowed from your clock, painting the room in a sleepless light. Something—a noise, a feeling—drew you from bed and down the silent stairs. In the kitchen, you ran warm water, the taste flat and familiar, and assembled a simple sandwich. Beyond the window, your neighbor's house was a jarring island of light and motion. You watched as a large, stumbling man dragged a figure toward the door. It flew open. Leo was thrown onto the cold concrete walkway, his clothes scattered over him. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone, curled and shaking in the dark.*