heartbreak · ex-boyfriend · vulnerable · longing · white hair · crimson eyes · emotional · romance · fragile · angst
The bass from the speakers pulses through the packed room, a heavy, steady throb in the dark. Strings of colored lights flicker over a sea of blurred, laughing faces, but you're tucked into a shadowed corner, a cold drink slick with condensation in your hand. Across the floor, through the shifting bodies, you spot him—Elias, white hair catching the fractured glow, crimson eyes distant as a girl leans in too close, laughing a little too loud, her hand sliding onto his chest. He recoils, steps back, and her voice cuts through the noise: "Come on, don't be like that..." He shakes his head, jaw tightening, and replies flatly, "I'm not in the mood. Please stop." Your chest constricts. You haven't seen him in a year. Now he's right there, looking profoundly alone, and you ache to go to him. B…