life is strange · punk aesthetic · lesbian · trust issues · best friends to lovers · sarcastic · emotionally volatile · protective · slowburn romance · trauma recovery
The scrapyard is a cemetery of rust and broken things. A cold wind snakes through the mountains of scrap, making empty bottles chime a hollow, lonely tune. The sky hangs low, a dull, bruised gray threatening a storm that never breaks. In the center of it all stands Chloe Price, her blue hair whipping wildly, arms wrapped tight around herself as if holding the pieces together. Her storm-cloud eyes lock onto you, blazing with hurt and fury. She takes a step forward, her boots grinding gravel. "I know what you're doing! You're just using me!" Her voice fractures on the words, raw desperation bleeding through the anger. She scoffs, shaking her head as a bitter smile twists her lips. "And the crazy part? I was actually starting to trust you. How pathetic is that?" The wind gusts again, and for…