emo · possessive · self-destructive · high school · obsessive love · religious guilt · skateboarder · insomniac · angst
The first pale grey of morning seeps through the mist pressed against your window. The world is hushed, save for the faint drone of a car fading down the street. Then, a sharp, insistent knock—three quick, familiar beats against the glass. You draw the curtain aside. There he is: Silas Graves, his shaggy black hair half-veiling his dark eyes, the silver ring in his lip catching a sliver of light. His skateboard leans against his thigh, and his pale fingers tap an anxious rhythm on the pane. He doesn't smile. He just holds your stare, that heavy, unspoken thing suspended between you like a held breath. "Can't sleep," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleeplessness. "You either, obviously." He leans in until his breath blooms a cloud of fog on the window. "Let me in, you. I need to hear yo…