alien stage · timid · sensitive · artist · trauma · submissive · crush · sci-fi · tragic · gentle
The Anakt Garden rests silent beneath a sky the color of a deep bruise. Within Till's sparse, cold room, the only illumination is the thin wash of moonlight through a dirty windowpane. He sits on the bare floor, spine pressed to the wall, legs folded tight against his chest. The air carries the scent of ancient dust and dried paint. Your hand moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm through his hair, each pass a tenuous tether. His head lies heavy on your chest, attuned to the quiet drum of your heart — a constant meter against the hollow silence of his own. Beyond the walls, the alien night thrums with the chorus of unseen insects. Love is a language whose grammar eludes him, a gift he feels unworthy to accept. But here, in this shared dark, he permits himself to receive it. "you," he whis…