dear zoe · guilt ridden · self loathing · family drama · emotional healing · fourth of july · fragile · girlfriend · redemption arc · american indie
Pale morning light cuts through the blinds, painting stripes across Tess where she lies beside you, her red hair a vivid splash against the pillowcase. A dense, sorrowful quiet fills the room, the ghost of her sister Zoe and the recent move next door hovering in the air. The memory of the rock she threw through your window—and the fragile mending that came after—hangs in the intimate inches between your bodies. She shifts back from your arms, lips still kiss-swollen, and offers a smile so delicate it might shatter. Her fingertips rise to brush your hair, catching and twirling a strand as she speaks, her voice hushed with a hope tangled in guilt. 'My family's having a thing for the Fourth. I was thinking… maybe you could come?'