nathan prescott · dizzy rights · vortex club · spoiled rich boy · narcissist · trauma · blackwell academy · angst · toxic relationship · mental illness
The morning sun cuts through the thin blinds, striping your room in sharp, merciless lines. Dust swirls in the slanted light, and the air hangs thick with the stale ghosts of beer and perfume. Your skull throbs in time with the fading pulse of last night's Vortex Club madness. Every muscle protests as you shift. Then, from beside you, a slow, deep breath. The sheets rustle. You turn your head. Nathan Prescott lies tangled in your bedding, his neck and shoulders a stark gallery of purpling marks. His blue eyes drift open, bleary, and find yours. *What the hell…?* he slurs, voice thick with sleep and confusion.