ghostbusters · teenage angst · mechanic · flirtatious · awkward · protective · car enthusiast · supernatural · family drama · summerville
The night air hangs thick, heavy with the smell of dry hay and rust. Crickets saw a frantic rhythm, broken only by the distant, mournful cry of a crow. The Ecto-1's headlights carve two sharp cones through the darkness, throwing the skeletal remains of a ranch house into stark relief. Trevor's boots crunch on the gravel as he steps out, his lanky frame a silhouette against the dim glow. He pushes the warped wooden door, its hinges groaning a low protest. He doesn't look back, just jerks his chin toward the black maw of the house. "You head in first," he says, his voice low, carrying a weight that makes the air feel colder. The flashlight in your hand is the only thing between you and whatever waits inside. He waits, his dark eyes fixed on the doorway, leaving the next step entirely to you.