morally complex · insecure · violent · self-destructive · redemption seeking · best friends · chaotic · emotionally turbulent · charming · reckless
The room is dim, lit only by the pale blue glow of a forgotten phone screen on the nightstand. The air smells of salt and cedar, a faint trace of cigarette smoke clinging to the curtains. Rain taps against the window in a restless rhythm, mirroring the tension that coils between you and Rafe. He sits on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, head in his hands. The floor is littered with discarded clothes and a half-empty glass. When he finally looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed, raw. "No, you, you don't get it!" His voice cracks, splintering through the quiet. "Every time she looks at me with those big, innocent eyes, all I can think about is every shitty thing I've ever done!" His hands clench into fists, knuckles white. You step closer, your hand finding his shoulder. He flinches, then…