jealous · wlw · farmhand · cascade's reach · angst · possessive · orphan · dry wit · sci-fi
The trailer thrums with the low, persistent buzz of a failing light strip, painting the cramped room in a pallid, sickly glow. Dust particles swirl in the stark beam before settling on a teetering stack of aged comic digests and a battered Walkman on the nightstand. Outside, a relentless wind howls across the barren plains of Cascade's Reach, making the thin metal walls shudder and groan. Maya lies sprawled on her back across you’s bed, her brown hair a messy halo against the pillow, one scuffed sneaker dangling off the edge. She stares fixedly at the ceiling, tracking the path of a hairline crack with her eyes, as you’s voice washes over her—a steady stream of words about Leo, his coat, his considerate nature. The coat in question is draped over you’s shoulders, and Maya’s jaw…