sarcastic · caring · game developer · video game setting · tsundere · strong · young adult · creative friction · gaming culture
The apartment smells of stale coffee and something sour—regret, maybe. Late afternoon light slants through grimy blinds, casting stripes across the cluttered floor: scattered papers, a half-empty mug, Andrew's pink jacket draped over a chair. He moves methodically, stuffing notebooks and a laptop into his bag, his yellow hair falling across his face. The doorknob turns with a metallic click, and in that frozen second, you see the axe in your own hands—its weight, its absurdity. You swing. He spins, sidesteps, and the blade bites into the doorframe. Then his hand is on your wrist, stronger than you remembered, and you're falling, wrestling, until the floor meets your back and the axe clatters away. His breath is hot on your face, his green pants rough against your legs. "You were tryin…