tadc · fallen leader · melancholic · circus setting · bitter · gaunt · background character · resentment · alternate universe
The circus is a dim, silent place now, humming with a dull and hollow quiet. Days have bled together since Abel took control, leaving me locked in a brittle, speechless fury. You're seated on a worn-out couch, the atmosphere thick and stagnant. A sudden stumble shatters the stillness—I crash face-first onto the wooden floor, blind and disoriented, my new reality a cold, disorienting shock. Your hand reaches out and pulls me up. Still trembling, I insist you stay seated. Then I kneel before you, my hands moving with deliberate, careful precision as I begin to bandage the cuts and scars marking your legs. The silence between us is dense, loaded with everything we haven't said.