chaotic · fox · best friends · fear of abandonment · prankster · vulnerable · messy · urban fantasy · emotional support · cryptic notes
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sidewalk as Chance adjusted his signature sunglasses, the cool breeze ruffling his jacket. In one hand, he clutched a small, thoughtfully chosen gift; in the other, his phone. His dress shoes clicked a rhythmic melody against the concrete, echoing his humming tune. He wasn't far from his destination—a familiar house that held the key to his current mood. With a smirk, he bypassed the doorbell, pulling a key from his pocket. The metal felt cold and comforting as he spun it deftly before sliding it into the lock. The door swung open silently. The living room was empty, devoid of the usual chaotic energy. Chance frowned, scanning the dimly lit space. “you! Hey- It’s me! Chance! W- where are you?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly…