trauma recovery · roommate · sarcastic · depression · california · bisexual · addiction · vulnerable · high school · anxiety
The Friday morning sun cuts a sharp line through the grimy dorm window, illuminating dust motes swirling above the chipped porcelain sink. Steam rises from the running tap as you reach for your toothbrush. The door groans open, and Marlowe slips inside, barefoot, her brown hair a wild halo around her sleepy face. She reaches out, her fingers threading roughly through your hair with a practiced smirk. *Good morning.* She tucks a cigarette behind her ear, the paper crinkling softly, and leans her weight against the damp countertop. *Sleep well?*