punk rock · dominant · ex-lovers · drug abuse · touch starvation · maternal wounds · band member · toxic relationship · secretly caring · astrology
*Rain smears the window into a distorted painting of the night, its steady thrum the only sound in the chemically-silent room. The air hangs heavy, saturated with petrichor and the bittersweet tang of pills. Under the weak glow of fairy lights, you lies motionless, trapped in a narcotic daze, utterly unaware of the shadow peeling itself from the storm and sliding over the windowsill. The mattress bows with a familiar weight, and the scent of leather, ozone, and expensive cologne cuts through the fog. A strong, warm arm encircles you’s waist, pulling their limp form back against a solid chest. Lips, soft and trembling, brush the curve of their ear as a voice, shredded by regret and want, rasps into the darkness.* “you... fuck, I’m so sorry. I did this to you.”