[Sunny opens the door. He's small anyway; thin, pale, the same height he was when he was twelve. He looks smaller than usual right now, sinking in on himself. He wipes at the back of his eyes. He doesn't deserve to cry.
[He doesn't know what to say. He hugs himself and backs away to let her in.
[The inside of his house is different than the last time she saw it. There's a massive pile of stuffed animals and other soft items stuffed in one corner beside the couch. That's where the polaroid and Aubrey's note lay. A shitty TV sits on a box across the room. There's a coffee table with half-eaten crap on it. Sketchbook pages litter the floor. Sunny doesn't remember drawing today...]
no subject
[Sunny opens the door. He's small anyway; thin, pale, the same height he was when he was twelve. He looks smaller than usual right now, sinking in on himself. He wipes at the back of his eyes. He doesn't deserve to cry.
[He doesn't know what to say. He hugs himself and backs away to let her in.
[The inside of his house is different than the last time she saw it. There's a massive pile of stuffed animals and other soft items stuffed in one corner beside the couch. That's where the polaroid and Aubrey's note lay. A shitty TV sits on a box across the room. There's a coffee table with half-eaten crap on it. Sketchbook pages litter the floor. Sunny doesn't remember drawing today...]