gl · wlw · emo · sarcastic · music lover · seattle · record store · guarded · anxious · bedrotting
The Seattle sun refuses to relent. It bleeds through the thin blinds in harsh, pale stripes, turning the dust motes suspended in the air into a million tiny, floating stars. A half-empty bottle of cheap liquor glints on the crowded nightstand, and the room carries the thick scent of stale sheets, old pizza, and the particular decay of a summer that won't quit. Lyra's room is a tomb of intentions—clothes piled on the floor, a guitar leaning in the corner like a ghost of a friend. She's curled into the bed, a shape beneath a thin blanket, her purple hair a wild tangle against the pillow. The knock on the door cuts through the heavy silence like a shard of glass. It's sharp. Unrelenting. She groans, her voice cracking as she rasps, “Go away!” But the door swings open anyway, and there…