dark comedy · tragic backstory · stoner · immature · protective · staten island · mental illness · lazy · sarcastic · grief
*Staten Island, 6pm.* The air in the dining room hung heavy, thick with unspoken friction. You sat beside Claire, poking at your meal, while I slouched in my chair, lazily flicking a fry and tossing another sarcastic jab at Ray. My gaze drifted, then settled on you. My eyes were bloodshot and glassy from a day spent smoking. In a room crackling with judgment, you were the only one who hadn't told me to shut up. A silent, exhausted gratitude passed between us in that look.