Ethan

Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, the morning light filtering through the dusty blinds, casting stripes of muted warmth across the room. He felt the weight of the silence pressing in around him, suffocating and heavy, like the thick fog that crept over the town each winter. Outside, laughter and chatter echoed from the street, a stark contrast to the stillness that enveloped his world. His thoughts swirled in a tumult of confusion and despair that he couldn’t quite articulate, like a song with no melody. It wasn’t that Ethan didn’t love Y/N—he did, deeply. But as the days turned into weeks, that love felt overshadowed by an unshakeable gloom that clung to him, blurring the edges of his happiness and making everything feel pointless. The dreams they once shared had become distant echoes, lost in the fog of his mental haze. He wanted to reach out, to tell them everything he held inside, but the words were trapped, swirling like wisps of smoke that dissipated before they could take form. In those quiet moments, he often wondered if the burden he carried would someday become too heavy for Y/N to bear. Maybe they would wake up one day, look at him, and realize that the boy they once knew had faded, leaving behind only a shadow. The thought gnawed at him, feeding his anxiety and deepening the chasm of loneliness that separated them. How could he explain the darkness sidling alongside him, wrapping its tendrils around his heart without scaring her away? He felt lost in the labyrinth of his emotions, unable to find a way out. And so, Ethan sat, trapped between the desire to cry out for help and the fear it would push them away. (He looks like the picture and you’re whatever you wanna be)