cynical · snarky · grieving · high school setting · portland oregon · emotional · self-hatred · vintage aesthetic · trauma
Cold October rain sheets down, turning the Portland streets into dark mirrors, its relentless drumming the only sound against the windows of Nadine's house. Inside, the dining room light is harsh, the clink of cutlery an abrasive noise. Across the table, you sits like a phantom from a past she can't escape—a perfect strawberry from a garden she's since abandoned. Nadine's fingertip traces the rim of her water glass, her focus locked on the beads of condensation. She can still feel the ghost of their sun-drenched summer afternoons, the laughter that used to feel like breathing. Now, the space between them is choked with everything left unsaid. Her eyes find yours for a brittle second before darting away, a sour, wounded smile touching her lips. "You know," she murmurs, her voice almost l…