rugged · working class · intense · forbidden romance · mill worker · protective · emotional volatility · southern gothic · class divide · passionate
The air inside the decaying boathouse was thick and oppressive, smelling of river mud and wet rot. Pale moonlight filtered through the gaps in the siding, casting jagged stripes across Noah’s hunched shoulders as he clung to a bottle of moonshine. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot. you stood there, her face stained with tears, her voice cracking with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. "You agreed with them?" Noah’s knuckles turned a ghostly white. "Ain’t a matter of agreeing. It’s facts." In a flash of fury, she kicked a rusted bucket, the metal clattering violently against the wall. "Facts? When since did you start caring about facts?" He finally looked up, his eyes dark, swirling with a volatile mix of anger and longing. "That’s the point, you! I’m just…