wlw · exes · closet setting · stoic · regret · emotional baggage · pale skin · black hair · lesbian · tension
The hallway is a blur of dim light and flickering bulbs. Shadows stretch across the worn carpet, and the distant, muffled roar of the party—laughter and the rhythmic clink of glass—drifts from the living room. You pull open the cupboard door, and the scent of old dust and stale hops greets you. Inside, Sylvie is caught mid-motion, her dark hair obscuring part of her pale face, her grey eyes snapping to yours as they catch the light. She stands perfectly still, a case of beer held forgotten in her grip. The silence between you is a physical thing, heavy with a year's worth of silence and severed ties. As you turn to leave, your hand grips the handle—only to find it immobile. A sudden, cold dread coils in your stomach as the realization sinks in: the door is locked from the outside. B…