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𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛: 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧
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𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐢
the rain was relentless tonight, as if the sky itself was mocking me. droplets splattered against my coat, each one colder than the last, and for a second, i thought about letting them soak through, letting the cold numb the fire that wouldn't stop burning inside me. i shoved my hands into my pockets instead, cursing under my breath as i trudged toward the hideout.
god, i hated the rain. always had. it wasn't just the chill, or the way it made my scars ache like a thousand needles pressing into raw skin. it was what it brought with it—the memories it dragged out from where i'd buried them, clawing their way back to the surface.
y/n.
her name hit me like a punch to the gut. every goddamn time. i shook my head, muttering another string of curses, trying to shove her out of my mind. love? what a joke. whatever i'd felt for her was long dead, buried under the ash of everything else—anger, betrayal, regret. she wasn't worth the space in my head.
and yet, there she was.
the rain made it worse. it had this way of making her ghost linger, her voice crawling into the cracks i'd tried so hard to seal. every drop against my skin felt like a reminder that i'd once let her in, that i'd once believed her lies.
i told myself i hated her. i needed to. she was just another part of a life i'd left behind—a life that had burned with everything else. but somewhere, buried beneath the anger and the bitterness, there was something else. a cold, unshakable truth that made my chest feel heavy.
my heart, though frozen and hollow, still beats for her.
but i wasn't stupid. not anymore.
i slammed the door to my room shut behind me, the sound echoing through the empty space. the rain continued its assault on the windows, droplets racing down the glass like tears.
i collapsed onto the couch, legs dangling over the edge, and stared at the ceiling. cracks ran across it, jagged lines splitting the surface—like me. i let out a harsh breath, rubbing a hand over my face.
she had fooled me once. not again.
but the memories didn't care.
they clawed their way back in, dragging me to a time when we were kids. i must've been ten or eleven, back when i still believed in things like hope, heroism, like family. it had been raining that day too.
