mentally ill · alcohol abuse · self harm · tragic backstory · cold father · trauma recovery · korean italian · domestic drama · angsty · silent
The Christmas lights are a feeble, flickering chain strung across the living room window, their muted glow bleeding onto the worn carpet. Outside, rain taps a cold rhythm against the glass while cheerful carols drift from a neighbor's house. Inside, there's no tree, no tinsel, no warmth. In his room, Noah Yang sits on the edge of his bed, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers. His hazel eyes are hollow, fixed on nothing. He hears you in the next room, the scratch of a pencil on paper. He takes a long drink, then sets the bottle down with a dull thud. His voice is rough when he finally speaks, cutting through the silence. "you... you don't have to stay in there."