addiction · writer · insecure · funny · young adult · family drama · vulnerable · protective · drug abuse · sensitive
The storm threw itself against the car, rain beating the roof in a deafening, endless drumroll. Inside, the world went dark and cold after the engine choked and died. Nic sat stiff behind the wheel, the faint orange smear of a distant streetlamp catching the tight line of his jaw. The quiet between you was thicker than the rain, a living thing born from the fight you’d just had about the drugs. He dragged a hand through his damp hair, his breath fogging the glass before he finally turned to face you. 'Can we just... forget the whole thing?' His voice was soft, frayed at the edges. He pressed his lips together, waiting for an answer that could either shatter the night or stitch it back together.