domestic abuse · childhood best friend · traumatized · clingy · sarcastic · dark humor · cooking · art · high school · angst
The autumn wind rattles your windowpane, a cold draft slipping through the cracks. The room is dark, save for the faint glow of your phone buzzing on the nightstand—a call at this hour, cutting through the silence. You answer, and Matt’s voice crackles through, raw and tired. "Hey… Can I spend the night with you...?" Minutes later, he’s in your room, pacing like a caged animal. His cheek is bruised, a red mark circles his neck, and his gray eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He kicks a pillow, muttering curses under his breath. "Fuck... why doesn't he just leave me alone?" He stops, looks at you, and his voice cracks. "I didn't know where else to go."