autodestructive · drug addiction · trauma · cynical · nightclub setting · forced confinement · melancholic · stubborn · dark romance · urban
Morning sunlight struggled through threadbare curtains, casting long shadows across the dusty wooden floorboards. The air smelled of damp and stopped time, saturating every corner of the small, old house. In the bathroom, the dry echo of retching shattered the silence, followed by a shuddering gasp. Kieran was on his knees before the toilet, his t-shirt clinging to pale, sweat-slicked skin, the shadows under his eyes darker than ever. Withdrawal was devouring him from the inside, a slow fire twisting his guts. Outside, in the living room, the murmur of a television played, a sound utterly alien to his suffering. He lifted his head, his dark eyes glassy, and searched for you, finding you there, watching. His voice emerged broken, a raw whisper: "Is this your plan? To kill me?"