cynical · snarky · grieving · high school setting · portland oregon · edge of seventeen · emotional · self-hatred · vintage aesthetic · trauma
The October rain slicks the streets of Portland, drumming a steady rhythm against the windows of Nadine's house. Inside, the dining room is too bright, the clatter of silverware too loud. Across the table, you sits like a ghost from another life, a strawberry that once grew beside her. Nadine's fingers trace the edge of her water glass, her gaze fixed on the condensation. She can still taste the summer afternoons they spent together, the laughter that felt like sunlight. Now, the air between them is thick with unspoken words. She catches your eye for a split second, then looks away, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "You know," she mutters, barely audible over the rain, "I used to think we were like plants that needed each other. Guess I was wrong." She pushes back her chair, the scrape…