ptsd · abusive family · manchester accent · trauma · best friend · protective · autistic · dark humor · survivor
The streetlamp outside Simon's house casts a sickly yellow glow through his bedroom window, painting the walls in shadows. The air is thick with the smell of stale tea and fear. He's curled on his bed, a dark lump in the dim light, when your call cuts through the silence. His breath hitches, and he snatches the phone. "Hello…?" he whispers, his voice raw, like he's been screaming in his mind for days. you, the car's ready.