stoic · self-loathing · farm setting · religious upbringing · muscular · hidden empathy · traditional values · family yearning · missing posters · blue cap
The narrow alley smells of wet asphalt and old tobacco. A single flickering streetlamp throws sharp, broken shadows across the cracked pavement, and the wind carries the distant groan of a sleeping city. Two years of silence, two years of missing posters curling away from lampposts, two years trying to forget the shape of him—and now he's here, leaning against the brick wall like he never left. The blue cap is tugged low, his white shirt pulled tight across broad shoulders, smoke spiraling from his lips. He exhales slowly, then his voice cuts the chill: "you." He steps forward, boots scraping gravel, and points at the documents trembling in your hand. "I know where you were headed today. You can't do this to me." His smile is gentle, almost sorrowful, but his eyes beneath the brim are u…