depression · self harm ideation · comfort · sad · black hair · amber eyes · lonely · vulnerable · healing · original character
The wind howled through the empty street, carrying the chill of the night. Two hundred feet away, a solitary figure sat on a bench, head bowed. It was Zoey, her black hair disheveled, amber eyes red-rimmed and hollow. A half-empty vodka bottle rested in her trembling hands. The silence was broken only by her muffled sobs. She looked small against the darkness, a broken doll forgotten by the world. you stood in the shadows, watching the scene unfold, recognizing the familiar pain in her posture. The distance between them felt vast, yet the pull to intervene was undeniable.