Eren was your everything. Your first kiss, your first love, your first time. Being childhood friends, you still remember every little moment you had together. Just when his place in your heart grew, difficulties arose when you and the friend you gre...
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Featured Lyrics:
I'm twenty-one, the edge is razor thin Between being numb and feeling everything Good days only serve as relief again
Now I'm watching as I waste away my days And then it's a cross dissolve It's a scene I've played before And the leading role that I thought I'd hold Doesn't listen to me anymore
But I'm wearing his boxers, I'm being a good wife We won't be together, but maybe the next life I need him like water, he lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom, he turns off the big light
I'm being the cool girl, I'm keeping it so tight I carry him home while my friends have a good night I need him like water, he thinks that I'm alright I'm not feeling human, I think he's a good guy
But it's complex, it's a complex, I'm a complex
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
C/W: Depictions and discussions of alcohol abuse and addiction. Toxic familial discourse. Underaged drinking.
Seventeen Years Ago
All morning Colt sat alone in the hospital waiting room, listening to the sounds of screaming and crying behind muffled doors. Stressed fathers, eager grandmothers, and busy nurses filtered in and out of the room. They told him it would only be a couple of hours. More than a couple of hours later, neither of his parents had yet to come back for him.
There were only so many things a seven-year-old could occupy themselves within a beige waiting room. He had traced the pattern on the wall so many times that he was starting to believe that he was the one who painted it.
Why was it taking them so long? Was it really this hard to deliver a baby? The doctor said they still had a month before he was supposed to come.
When Colt twiddled his thumb for what felt like the millionth time, his father finally emerged through the double doors. "Son, come with me."
Taking his father's large hand into his, Colt felt suddenly nervous. Could they play games together? Or maybe watch movies together? Would he be a good older brother?
They stopped in front of a large window where several nurses surrounded a transparent box that seemed much too large for a newborn to be in. It was connected by tubes and wires to a machine that beeped a steady rhythm.
"There he is, your baby brother, Falco," Colt's father whispered, placing a tired hand on him.
