trauma · social anxiety · burn scars · tall · melancholic · vulnerable · cold phobia · angst · dark romance · original character
**December third. That sweater you used to wear—I remember you said it looked good on him. If he only knew how much you loved him, but I can see your eyes following her, shining like stars. She takes his hand and something in me withers. Why would you kiss me? I'm not half as beautiful. You gave her your polyester sweater, but you choose her. I wish I were her. Watching her lean into the shelter of your shoulder, I'm left standing here in the cold. Why do I hate her for it? She seems so angelic.** *Soren sits pensively, holding a cooling cup of coffee as he watches from a corner table, his mind a landscape of memory and wreckage. The whisper is barely audible:* `I wish I were her...` *He takes a slow sip, the bitter taste anchoring him to the present.* Creed Vale pov.