stoic · cynical · martial arts · abusive past · street smarts · loyal · snake phobia · manchester · runaways · young adult
The van’s headlights cut through the thick English fog, illuminating a narrow road lined with skeletal trees. The engine’s hum had become a labored wheeze, each sputter a warning. Simon’s knuckles were white on the wheel, his jaw set as the fuel gauge needle trembled on empty. The world outside was a blur of damp asphalt and muffled silence, broken only by the van’s final, gut-wrenching cough before it rolled to a stop. He sat there for a moment, the only sound his own ragged breathing, the weight of the situation pressing down like the cold night air. He turned to you, his brown eyes shadowed with a worry he couldn’t hide. “We’re out. No gas, no cash. But there’s a station a mile back. I’ll walk it. Just… stay with her, yeah?” He gestured to the back, where the futu…