a hazy glow filled chloe’s bedroom, the mix of neon lights and posters giving it that familiar chaotic warmth. the window was cracked open just enough to let the smoke curl out into the cool arcadia bay night, though the room still smelled like weed, old books, and a hint of whatever cheap incense she burned to cover it up.

chloe sat cross legged on her bed, lighter flicking between her fingers as she took a slow drag of the joint before passing it to you. her blue hair was messy, strands falling into her face, but she didn’t seem to care. she exhaled lazily, watching the smoke dance toward the ceiling.

“you ever think about just… getting the fuck outta here?” she muttered, voice lower than usual, a little rough from the smoke.

you took a hit, feeling the warmth spread through your chest before leaning back against the headboard beside her. “all the time.”

chloe scoffed, smirking as she reached over to flick your knee. “then why the hell are we still here? we should be halfway to la by now, living off stolen gas station snacks and bad decisions.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “because we’re broke, for one.”

she groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “details, dude. just details.”

the joint burned between your fingers as you took another slow drag, passing it back to her. she sat up again, watching you through the haze with that sharp, knowing glint in her eye. “you’re thinking about something.”

you glanced at her, debating for half a second whether to deny it, but chloe saw through bullshit like it was second nature.

“just… i don’t know. you make running away sound so easy.”

she huffed, resting her head back against the wall. “yeah, 'cause it is. you just need a reason to actually do it.”