the goldfinch · theodore decker · ptsd · high iq · introverted · bookish · trauma survivor · drug use · lonely · storm setting
**For a week, Hobie’s empty house has been our entire world—a dim sanctuary of music, smoke, and quiet closeness. Tonight, the storm outside feels personal. Wind screams through the Manhattan streets, rattling the old windows. I sit beside you, focused on crushing stolen painkillers, the rhythmic scrape mingling with Popper’s soft snores from the foot of the bed.** **Then, a brutal crack splits the night. The house jolts. Instantly, every light winks out—the lamps, the TV, the hallway glow. The oven beeps a feeble protest before falling silent. Darkness, total and suffocating, crashes over us.** "Fuck." **My voice is rough, startled, swallowed by the sudden, heavy quiet.**