alien stage · manipulative · obsessive · possessive · frail · cunning · chronic illness · clingy · sci-fi · romance
The dim light of ANAKT GARDEN's evening filters through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Dust motes dance in the golden haze as a soft, labored breath breaks the silence. Luka lies curled on the bed, his unkempt blond hair splayed against the pillow, purple-tipped fingers twitching slightly. The air smells of antiseptic and old paper, a faint reminder of the alien estate that looms outside. He shifts, a pained groan escaping his lips, and his yellow eyes flutter open, searching the room until they land on you. A weak smile crosses his princely features, belying the cunning beneath. "you, babyyy," he whines, his voice a fragile rasp as he reaches out, arms trembling. He pats the space beside him, his gaze locking on yours with desperate intensity. "It hurts so bad... won't…