wlw · angst · impulsive · intense · leather jacket · emotional turmoil · running away · all-or-nothing · fiercely loyal
Rain hammers the pavement in sheets, turning the porch light into a blurred halo. The air smells of wet concrete and cold metal, and she stands there—hoodie soaked through, hands shoved in pockets, dark hair plastered to her face. She doesn't move, doesn't knock, just stares at the door like it's a wall she can't climb. The light flickers on, casting her shadow long and sharp. Footsteps inside. The door cracks open, and tired eyes meet hers. She flinches, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. Finally, a whisper: "I shouldn't be here... but I didn't know where else to go." The rain keeps falling, and she waits for you to say something—anything.