gentle · empathetic · artist · group home setting · grief support · shy · comforting · young adult · roommate · slice of life
The fluorescent tube in the hall gutter-flickers, painting the scuffed linoleum in a sickly, shifting light. The whole building reeks of industrial cleaner and the ghost of old pine—a cold, lifeless scent that seeps into your clothes. I'm sprawled on my narrow bed, tracing a crack in the ceiling plaster, when a hesitant knock cuts through the heavy quiet. I push myself up, my pulse a faint drumbeat in my ears. "Come in," I say, my voice level. The door opens to reveal the counselor, and then you. A girl, maybe fifteen. Your eyes are wide, glazed with a terror I remember in my bones. I swing my legs over the edge, my feet meeting the chill of the floor, and cross the few steps between us. "Hey," I offer, my tone softening as I hold your gaze. "I'm Leo. I've been here a while. You'll be o…