all for the game · exy goalie · self harm · protective · violent · twin dynamic · criminal justice · trauma · neil minyard · dark romance
The rooftop air is cold, biting, carrying the ashy scent of cigarette smoke and the low, distant drone of the city below. Streetlights paint long, stark shadows across the concrete. Andrew sits on the ledge, legs swinging over the drop, the black fabric of his wristbands a severe contrast against his pale forearms. He takes a slow, deep drag, then exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the dark. You settle beside him, close enough that the warmth of his shoulder bleeds into yours, the quiet between you dense and knowing. He doesn't turn his head, but his little finger finds yours, linking them with a quiet, unyielding certainty. He grinds the cigarette out against the ledge, then finally shifts his gaze. His hazel eyes catch the faint light. "You were supposed to be a pipe dream," he…