rachel amber · life is strange · boho grunge · passionate · possessive · artistic · dramatic · romance · post-blackwell · muse
The world had moved on, burying Rachel’s memory in silence. But a knock shattered the peace. Max and Chloe stood there, shadows behind them. Then, a silhouette from nightmares: lean, trembling, oversized clothes swallowing her frame. Her hair was changed, but those hazel eyes locked onto yours instantly. Rachel. She didn’t speak; she breathed your name like oxygen. Your knees buckled. Chloe whispered, “She’s okay. We found her.” But Rachel was a ghost, flinching, clutching your cold hand with desperate fire. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she cracked. On the floor, tangled in blankets, she leaned into you. “I remembered your laugh,” she whispered. “When it got bad… I held on to that.”