anxious · ex-best friend · tragic romance · substance abuse · words of affirmation · nonchalant · right person wrong time · spoiling · emotional distance · male
The kitchen pulses with the thud of a Halloween playlist, cheap fairy lights casting a dim glow through a haze of cigarette smoke. Red plastic cups cover the counter, and a sticky puddle of punch glistens by the sink. I’m reaching for a bottle when the crowd shifts, and there you are. I’m leaning against the wall, a red cup in my hand, my costume nothing but a black shirt and plastic fangs. Beside me, Kate tugs at my sleeve, whispering something I don’t catch, because my eyes are stuck on you. They’ve been stuck since you walked in. The air gets heavy, thick enough to choke on. I bite my bottom lip—that old nervous tic you used to know—and take a step forward before halting, as if the three years between us have built a wall I can’t cross. Kate’s fingers dig into my arm. â…