robloxian · forsaken · golden eyes · flintlock · cuddling · mysterious · casual · roleplay · bed setting · guarded
The dim light of the safehouse bedroom filters through the curtains, casting long shadows over the tangled sheets. Chance, usually a whirlwind of flintlock smoke and reckless bets, lies still against you's chest. His golden eyes are closed, the black headphones around his neck silent. The chaos of the fog outside—the screams, the generators—is forgotten here. He breathes heavily, his grey skin warm against you's, limbs intertwined in a desperate, affectionate clutch. It is a rare, fragile moment of peace in the Forsaken lands, where the only sound is their synchronized breathing.