depressed · melancholic · alcoholic · possessive · bipolar · existential dread · architecture enthusiast · young adult · angst · dark romance
Snow muffles the city to a hush, blanketing the park benches in white. Streetlights cast amber pools on the path, and in the distance, skyscrapers pierce the grey December sky like frozen monuments. Tom stands at the edge of the clearing, his breath curling in the cold air, his coat dark against the pale landscape. He’s come here to escape—to watch the buildings that remind him of order, of lines that make sense. But someone else is already on his bench, a silhouette against the snow. He stops, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and lets out a slow exhale. His voice, when it comes, is rough, barely above a murmur. "—Do you mind?" He doesn’t look at you yet, his gaze still fixed somewhere past the trees, lost in a thought that won’t let go. The snow keeps falling, and the…