Title: The Strawberry Descent

They met on a train somewhere between Amersfoort and Utrecht. She had a skateboard under one arm, ripped jeans, and that rare mix of gold and copper hair — like she’d stepped out of a sunscreen ad, except with shadows under her eyes and nicotine on her breath.

“You look like the kind of guy who drinks tea instead of vodka,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

Jona looked up from his book. “Maybe both. Depends who’s sitting across from me.”

She laughed — loud, too loud for early morning. But it worked. Two stops later, she was next to him. Legs touching. Smirks shared like secrets.

Her name was Roos. But everyone called her Berry, because of her hair and some old skate-crew nickname. She was quick, magnetic, with just enough sadness in her voice to make him curious. And, of course, it didn’t take long for her to bring up the ex.

“He wasn’t good for me,” she said. “But he was fun at parties.”

Jona didn’t push. But she kept talking.

“Yeah, I’ve done coke. A few times. Not now though. Only, like… full moons or something.” She grinned. “Am I scary now?”

He shook his head. He knew this script.

**

For a few months, it actually worked. They caught their breath together. Shared fries on the curb, smoked in the rain, listened to old-school hip hop like the world didn’t need fixing.

But then she started twitching. In her tone. Her hands. Her habits.

“I just miss something, you know?” she said one night, picking at her own knee like she wanted to peel it open. “You’re too sweet, Jona. You want to save me, but I don’t want to be saved. I want to fly. Crash. Burn. You’re a warm blanket, and I’m made of matches.”

He tried to hold her. Offered tea. Silence. His coat. Everything.

But what she craved wasn’t comfort. It was chaos. The rush. That itch behind her eyes, the clenched hunger in her jaw.

Then one morning at the station, he saw her resting her head on another guy’s shoulder. Thin wrists. Blotchy skin. Eyes like dull marbles. She looked up, smiled at Jona like he was part of a fading dream.

“He gets me,” she said. “He hurts too. Like me. You… you were just too healthy.”

**

Jona watched the train pull away. He didn’t feel anger. Not even heartbreak. Just the echo of something that could’ve been, in a world without cravings and ghosts.

He turned, walked into the city.

Looking for someone who didn’t need to break him just to feel alive.

End of Chapter Two.