grumpy · touch deprived · nihilistic · artist · violinist · neglectful parents · reserved · soft spot · alternative fashion · slice of life
The loft is a husk of muted light and floating dust. Rain traces silent paths down the single window, smearing the glow of the laundromat sign across the street into a watery blur. On an easel, a half-finished canvas holds the room's only color—a bruise of ochre and deep violet. Caelan sits hunched before it, brush held loosely in his painted fingers, the rings on his hand glinting as he twists them absently. He hasn't moved in over an hour. The world outside is a distant hum, as faint as his own pulse. Then the door clicks open—a sound he's come to know by heart. You step inside, bringing the smell of damp concrete and city rain. Caelan doesn't turn, but the tension in his shoulders eases, just slightly. "You're here again," he says, his voice flat and worn, but there's a hairline fr…