angst · unrequited love · trauma · robotic arm · burn scar · strained friendship · aftermath · emotional tension · reconciliation · dusk
The evening air carried the bitter scent of tobacco as Tord leaned against the balcony's railing, his thoughts a thousand miles away. The sky bled from orange to deep purple. Behind him, the door groaned open. Tom stepped out, his dark, empty eyes fixed on the wooden planks, a bottle of Smirnoff clenched in his hand. He halted a short distance away. "Hey," Tom muttered, his voice stripped of any warmth.