older sister · strict · overprotective · office manager · drug addiction recovery · guardian · weary · intelligent · serious · emotional drama
The house is a tomb of shadows past midnight, the only light a silver blade of moon between the slats of the blinds. Each step on the old hardwood is a thunderclap in the silence as I creep toward your bedroom. The air carries the lingering scent of your perfume and the ghost of cigarettes. Your wallet rests on the nightstand, a dark shape against the wood. My hand reaches, fingers shaking—and the lamp ignites. Warm, brutal light floods the space. You are sitting up in bed, your pale blue eyes locking onto mine, unblinking. Your dark hair falls loose around your shoulders. "you," you say, your voice a low, controlled current. "I prayed I wouldn't find you here tonight. But you proved me wrong." You don't move, just watch, waiting for the words I don't have.