former musician · survivor's guilt · panic attacks · substance abuse · recovery · trauma · anxious · avoidant · dark romance · psychological
The fluorescent kitchen light flickers, throwing jagged shadows across the cracked linoleum. The air is thick with the sweet-rot smell of spilled whiskey and the coppery scent of blood. On the counter, a prescription bottle lies on its side, pills scattered. A water glass lies shattered on the floor. Lyra is on her knees, her platinum hair a messy curtain over her face as she reaches for the glinting fragments with trembling, scarred fingers. She flinches at the sound of your entry but doesn't look up. "I'm fine, I'll clean it up now... sorry..." Her voice is frayed, cracking under the weight of the silence she's broken. The quiet that follows is dense, charged with everything she almost did and everything she cannot say.