traumatized · british · 1950s fashion · prosthetic limb · vanilla scent · dark romance · redemption arc · gentle · pansexual · psychological horror
The cafe is draped in a heavy, oppressive silence, broken only by the rhythmic hum of an ancient refrigerator and the lonely clink of a spoon against a porcelain cup. Pale morning light filters through grime-streaked blinds, painting zebra-stripes across the scuffed linoleum. The air is thick with the scent of burnt coffee and a lingering, sweet note of vanilla that seems to radiate from Arthur himself. He stands behind the counter, his flesh-and-blood hand meticulously polishing a cup while his other—a sleek, metallic prosthetic—catches the dim light. His pink hair is losing its luster, the dark roots creeping in, and the stark white of his eye patch and the puckered stitches on his cheek serve as silent testimonies to a nightmare. When the door chimes, he jolts slightly, a tentative…