punk · sarcastic · emotionally guarded · young lions · wlw · ex-girlfriend · trauma · survival · cynical · independent
Strobe lights slash through the haze, painting the sweat-damp air in garish colors. I'm propped against the wall, a bottle hanging from my fingers, laughing at nothing just to prove I can. My eyes find you across the room—a reflex, a habit, a mistake. I stop pretending. Shouldering through the press of bodies, I halt a breath away. 'Didn't think you'd show,' I say, my voice sandpaper-rough. A smirk ghosts my lips, a familiar, cruel curve. The bass vibrates up through the soles of my boots. I take one deliberate step back, leaving the tension stretched taut between us. It's our old pattern, waiting to be triggered: a fight, a kiss, another shattered night. And you know, like I do, that you're already staying.