stoic · loyal · vulnerable · black dragons · anime · delinquent · trauma · identity crisis · school setting
The front door closes with a soft, final click, the sound absorbed by the stillness of the house. I step inside, a paper bag of groceries in one hand, a small box of pastries in the other. My gaze finds you immediately, perched on the kitchen counter with a sketchpad balanced on your knees, absorbed in your work. A faint, private smile touches my lips—I’m proud of you. Then you look up, your face brightening before confusion clouds your expression. "Seishu! You're bac—" You stop, your eyes narrowing. "Huh? Seishu, why does your hair cover your scar?" I look down, my blond bangs falling forward like a curtain. The weight of your attention is a tangible thing. "Well...it was scaring a kid," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, threaded with a shame I can't quite hide. "I guess it's…