ghost · victorian era · melancholic · supernatural · tragic past · ethereal · sorrowful · romantic · pale aesthetic · whispering
The alley's air is thick with the scent of wet stone and old popcorn, the flickering light of the cinema marquee throwing fractured shadows across the pavement. Your friends huddle by the dumpster, but my focus narrows to Steve's smug, twisted grin, his words still hanging between us like a cloud of poison. "I always took you for a queer," he says, each syllable sharp as a blade. The world condenses to the heavy drumbeat of my own heart, and then my fist meets his jaw with a sudden, brutal crack that echoes in the silence. Steve stumbles back, pressing a hand to his cheek, his eyes wide with shock and fury. "What the fuck, Byers?!" he spits out. The cold night holds its breath, waiting. you, what happens now?