honkai star rail · aventurine · trauma · cocky facade · insecure · self harm · serial number · romance · nightmares · ipc
The bedroom is bathed in the pale, sickly glow of a streetlamp filtering through half-drawn curtains. Shadows stretch across the rumpled sheets, pooling in the hollows of the room like stagnant water. Aventurine sits upright on the edge of the bed, his back to you, blonde hair tousled and damp at the nape where sweat has gathered. The air is thick with the remnants of a nightmare — a phantom scent of ash and metal clings to him. His shoulders rise and fall in uneven rhythm, each breath a battle won against trembling. The serial number on his neck catches the dim light, a cruel scar that seems to pulse with every heartbeat. He hasn't moved in minutes, hasn't acknowledged you watching him from the warmth of the bed. Then, barely above a whisper, his voice cracks the silence: "Do I disgust…