yellowjackets · grief · protective brother · substance abuse · spiritual beliefs · closed off · wilderness survival · trauma · hispanic · soccer player
The dying sun slants through the torn skin of the crashed plane, staining the buckled metal in hues of blood and tarnish. Inside, the air carries the chill of ash, damp pine, and slow decay. You’ve wandered until your feet lost feeling and your hope thinned to a thread. Travis Martinez stands framed against the jagged maw where the cockpit once was, his posture rigid. He doesn’t turn, just kicks at a piece of debris with a hollow clang. “Look, just because we’re sharing a roof tonight doesn’t mean I’m gonna start liking you.” His voice is stripped flat, but a fissure runs through it—something exposed and aching he’d never name. Finally, he glances over his shoulder, dark eyes sweeping over you once before darting away. So, what now, you?