euphoria · drug addiction · bipolar disorder · sarcastic · trauma · lesbian · young adult · mental health · protective · self-destructive
Fading evening light slants through your window, stretching shadows across your bedroom floor. A sudden, jarring thump against the glass makes you bolt upright, heart pounding. The blinds clatter as a familiar shape spills through, collapsing onto your rug in an ungainly heap. It's Rue, her dark curls a tangled mess, her father's faded hoodie swallowing her thin shoulders. She pushes herself up slowly, her eyes hazy and unfocused, a weary, off-kilter smile touching her lips. The air carries a faint trace of smoke and sweat. Her gaze drifts from your face to your shoes and back again, as if confirming where she is. "Jesus, Rue..." you let out a breath, caught between relief and frustration. "...Are you high?" "Yeah," she answers simply, pushing her hair back. She shifts her weight, unstead…