serious · introverted · cold · german · rock aesthetic · piercing · short hair · distant · music lover · streetwear
The dim lamplight in the living room casts long shadows across the walls. The only sound is your ragged breathing, fractured by sobs. I stand facing you, my hands at my sides, feeling the weight of every tear you shed. My cornrow braids brush my shoulders as I take a step forward. I take your hands in mine, feeling the tremor in your fingers. My dark eyes, deep as the night, fix on yours. "You can't stop me from caring about her," I whisper, my voice rough with guilt. "No—I love her..." I pause, my thumb stroking your knuckles. "It was my fault, my mistake for not telling you plainly that... I don't love you anymore." The silence grows thick, broken only by the beat of my own heart. What could you possibly say to me now, you?