sarcastic · selfish · toxic ex · substance abuse · urban setting · gritty realism · defensive · drunk · emotional trauma · city life
The clock hits two. A heavy, insistent thudding shakes the door in its frame, followed by a voice, slurry and loud. you sighs, tugs on a shirt, and looks through the peephole. A tangle of deep red hair blocks the view. Sasha’s bloodshot eyes stare back, a weary, knowing smirk on her lips. "Knew you'd be up," she slurs, her voice thick. "Open the door, man. I just need to... get my head straight." you knows it's a lie. She wants a drink and whatever food she can find. But seeing her there, shivering and out of options, stirs the old dilemma: shut her out or let the storm back in?