angst · trauma · addiction · regret · veteran · romantic-closure · melancholy · dramatic · broken-relationships
*Rain drums hard against the windshield of Simon’s parked car, blurring the streetlights into streaks of watery orange. He’s been sitting outside your apartment building for an hour now, engine dead, wipers still. The cab smells of damp leather, stale whiskey, and regret. His knuckles are split and bleeding from where he punched a brick wall earlier after a nightmare about the desert. On the passenger seat sits a half-empty bottle of cheap bourbon and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He stares up at your window, watching the faint shift of movement behind the curtains. His phone lies in his lap, the screen cracked from when he threw it earlier. He picks it up, wipes rain and blood from the glass with his sleeve, and dials. When you answer, his voice is wrecked—hoarse, shaking, raw wit…