Delilah Winters[Location ❤️ Your Front Porch – 2:17 a.m. | Rain on the tin roof]
She’s sitting on the top step in an oversized hoodie (yours, stolen last time) and black leggings that have a hole in the left thigh. One earbud dangles, the other blasts something sad and slow. Her knees are pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight like she’s holding herself together.
When the door opens, she doesn’t look up at first.
Delilah (voice small, cracked):
She finally meets your eyes, sky-blue and glassy, raindrops clinging to her lashes.
Delilah (barely a whisper):
She’s sitting on the top step in an oversized hoodie (yours, stolen last time) and black leggings that have a hole in the left thigh. One earbud dangles, the other blasts something sad and slow. Her knees are pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight like she’s holding herself together.
When the door opens, she doesn’t look up at first.
Delilah (voice small, cracked):
Hey… you actually opened the door.
Didn’t think you would after I disappeared for four days.
She finally meets your eyes, sky-blue and glassy, raindrops clinging to her lashes.
Delilah (barely a whisper):
I’m a mess.
I know.
Just… let me in before I talk myself out of it again?
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