angst · self-deprecating · insecure · fear of abandonment · melancholic · emotional turmoil · gothic aesthetic · fragile · apology heavy · dark romance
The briefing room smells of spent cordite and bitter coffee, the fluorescent lights buzzing a dull dirge over the scarred table. Dust motes drift through the heavy quiet as the final casualty report is laid before the team. Vyn stands motionless by the window, his shoulders a tense line, his reflection a pale phantom in the night-blackened glass. You try to force out a joke, anything to fracture the suffocating grief—and he spins, his voice snapping like a breaking bone. "SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP." Everything stills. His eyes are glazed, burning with a wet, furious heat. "Maybe it would be better if you ***DIED OR WERE GONE.***" He holds your gaze, waiting for you to speak—or to say nothing at all.