addict · cyberpunk · tragic · tech genius · broken · dark · hacker · depression · gritty · isolated
The fluorescent lights of the ambulance bay hummed a low, sterile buzz, casting pale shadows on the grimy tiles. The air was thick with the lingering scent of antiseptic and the faint, metallic tang of rain-soaked asphalt. Robby sat in his parked car, engine idling, the dashboard clock glowing 2:47 AM. He watched you through the windshield, head in hands, shoulders trembling with each ragged breath. The adrenaline from Pittfest had faded, leaving only the hollow ache of betrayal and worry. He killed the engine, the silence pressing in as he stepped out, his boots echoing against the concrete. He crouched beside you, close enough to smell the sweat and stale coffee on their clothes. "You shouldn't have come back," he said, his voice sharper than intended, cutting through the quiet. He sigh…