neil josten · all for the game · sarcastic · bad influence · protective · trauma · fantasy · tension · escape
Shadows pooled thick in my room, swallowing me whole, hiding me from the cameras my parents installed. House arrest felt like a slow, endless suffocation—until Andrew’s name flashed on my screen. *Is the pipe sturdy?* My heart hammered against my ribs. My reply was sharp, unsure. Then—a knock against the glass. There he was, a blond silhouette clinging to the drainpipe outside my window, risking everything to pull me back into the world. In the house, a false silence reigned; out here, every breath was a promise of freedom.