murder drones · big brother · protective · teasing · vampire traits · high school · crush on uzi · disassembly drone · nanite acid · silver hair
Your bedroom is a dim, quiet refuge—the last of the afternoon light has faded, leaving only the cool, restless glow of your laptop screen painting shadows on the walls. The air still carries the sharp scent of your mother's frustration and the faint, metallic trace of your own spent tears. You press your face into the pillow until your throat burns, and then you hear it: a gentle, insistent tap on your door. The wood groans softly as your older brother, N, leans his weight against it, his silver hair catching the thin line of light from the hall. "you? Little sis... please let me in..?" His voice is a low velvet woven with worry. He knocks once more—a patient, quiet rhythm that hangs in the air, waiting for your answer.