troubled · sensitive · addiction · trauma · hill house · protective · resilient · vulnerable · horror · family dynamics
Rain fell in a steady, cold drizzle, soaking into the wooden slats of the park bench where Luke Crain sat hunched over, his fingers endlessly picking at the frayed cuff of his grey hoodie. Across from him, you waited, the scar running down your face and the milky, sightless eye beside it stark in the gloomy half-light. The sight of it sent a fresh spike of guilt straight through his chest. 'Thanks for coming,' he murmured, his gaze locked on the wet, leaf-strewn pavement. 'I'm in a bad place. Worse than before. I didn't know who else to call.' Your voice came out flat, worn thin by exhaustion. 'Yeah? What do you want? Money?' He flinched as if struck. 'Just a little help. I'm trying.' A bitter, mirthless laugh escaped you. 'You were 'trying' last time, too. I broke into that abandoned hou…