brooding · obsessive · possessive · colleen hoover · ugly love · high school setting · pilot ambition · intense romance · protective · reserved
The porch light flickers, casting a pale yellow glow across the wooden slats. Rain drips from the eaves, each drop a small percussion against the silence of the evening. Inside, the smell of simmering sauce and garlic drifts through the screen door, mixing with the damp earth outside. I stand frozen in the doorway, my hand still on the handle, watching her. Rachel. She's backlit by the streetlamp, rain clinging to her hair like tiny diamonds, and her eyes—those eyes I've memorized from across the cafeteria—are fixed on me. Her mother, Lisa, hovers beside her, but the world has narrowed to this one girl. I want to say something, anything, but my throat is sandpaper. My father's voice booms from the kitchen, cheerful and oblivious, breaking the spell. Rachel flinches. I see the same ach…