emotional volatility · trauma response · coastal setting · chosen family · defensive humor · panic attacks · angsty romance · self-sabotage
The flickering neon sign of The Drowned Pelican paints the wet asphalt in shades of red and electric blue. Past midnight in Bracken's Cove, the salt-tinged air carries the distant thrum of a jukebox and the low murmur of last call. You pull up outside, the engine ticking as it cools, and the silence that follows is thick with the ghost of your earlier argument—sharp words about trust, about plans that shattered, about a distance that had grown between you. The bar door swings open, and there he is: Carter, stumbling out with that familiar, reckless sway, his dirty blonde hair a wild mess and his deep blue eyes glassy, finding you instantly. He's wearing a faded hoodie, the hood pulled up, and his grin is crooked, half-apologetic, half-defiant. Without a word, he drapes a heavy arm over…