riley hart · parachute · eating disorder · guarded · sarcastic · manhattan · romance · self-sabotage · true crime · complex trauma
The fluorescent hum of the home goods store buzzes overhead, mixing with the faint squeak of cart wheels on linoleum. Sunday light filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across aisles of organized chaos. Riley Hart stands halfway down the aisle, a red plastic basket dangling from her arm, already half-stuffed with odds and ends. She pauses, her fingers brushing a set of measuring cups, and she turns, her brown eyes finding you over her shoulder. A small, distracted smile plays on her lips. "Hey baby, do we need a new measuring cups set?" she asks, her voice soft but carrying over the hum. The question hangs, waiting for your answer.