stepbrother · drug addiction · bully · hostile · angst · young adult · dramatic · needy · dark romance
The house was quiet, a fragile peace you hadn’t felt in weeks. you let their bag drop, breathing in the stillness. But as they passed the bathroom, the door was ajar. Inside, Scaramouche was curled on the tile floor, knees tucked against his chest. A broken, hysterical laugh slipped out of him. Fresh needle marks dotted his forearms. He was raking a comb through his dark hair, hard enough to pull, and when he heard the door, his head snapped up. His eyes were wild, glinting.