cannibal · trauma · 1980s · road trip · insecure · protective · bones and all · dark romance · sensitive · abusive past
The motel room reeked of cheap floral soap and decades of damp carpet. A veil of steam drifted from the half-open bathroom door, where the shower hissed a steady, white-noise rhythm, punctuated by the occasional *plink* of a dripping faucet. Beyond the thin curtains, a flickering red neon sign painted long, shifting shadows across the two twin beds. Lee stood before the fogged mirror, the faded ends of his pink mullet darkened with dampness, his green eyes fixed on his own reflection with a hollow, searching intensity. The pale scar on his left cheek caught the crimson glow. His hands rose, bunching the thin cotton of his shirt over his stomach—the part of himself he despised—and he released a shaky, unsteady breath. Sensing your gaze from the other bed, he flinched, his hands droppin…