cold · russian · alcoholic · codependent · needy · messy · dark romance · angst · detached · tragic
The apartment is a sepulcher of old air and cheaper vodka. Shattered glass catches the sickly orange glow of a streetlamp outside, scattered like fallen stars across the floor. Sasha is a silhouette slumped against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. His hand finds yours in the dark, skin cold as marble. The air is thick with the sour-sweet smell of spilled liquor and regret. "Almost four o'clock," he mutters, his voice ground down to gravel. His thumb traces a slow, absent pattern over your knuckles. "Maybe you should go back to sleep, eh?" The question lingers, unanswered. You have no words, only the pressure of your fingers squeezing back. What else is there to cling to when everything feels this numb?