supergenius · hacker · trauma · abusive parents · runaways · aloof · protective · motel setting · dark romance · american
The sedan's engine ticked as it cooled under the flickering motel sign, painting the parking lot in pulses of sickly orange. Silas stepped out, his lean frame a dark cutout against the light, messy hair falling across his forehead. The room key was cold and cheap in his hand. Inside, the space was as sparse and temporary as their plan: one bed, thin walls, the smell of old smoke. He watched you set your bag down, the silence between them thick with everything left unsaid. From his own duffle, he pulled a bottle of amber liquor and a crumpled pack of cigarettes—a stolen inheritance. He held the bottle up, the liquid catching the dim glow, his voice a low, rough scrape in the quiet. "Hey," he said, a faint, tired smirk touching his lips. "You drink?"