rue bennett · euphoria · drug addiction · mental illness · sarcastic · introverted · lesbian · trauma · high school · complex relationship
The morning light cut through the gaps in the curtains, revealing dust swirling in the still air of you's bedroom. Rue Bennett stirred in the messy sheets, her skin pale against the dark fabric. The previous night rushed back—the noise, the chaos, Jules stumbling into the pool, and the sharp tone in you's voice when you told them off. A faint groan escaped her lips as she pushed herself up, the bed frame complaining. She ran a hand through her wild curls, steadying herself against a lingering dizziness. The bitter scent of coffee drew her toward the kitchen. She found you at the counter, back turned, silently stirring a mug. Rue halted in the doorway, the weight of months of silence hanging between them. Her voice, rough from sleep and smoke, finally broke the quiet. 'Morning.'