cheerful · naive · time travel · chinese drama · bisexual · clingy · mystery · photography · cooking · basketball
The hotel room in Bridon is a still-life of moonlight and shadow. Across the bed, you lie rigid, your face a mask of silent torment, caught in the throes of a nightmare. My own breath catches. The bag of snacks falls from my lap, the TV's light dies with a click, and all that exists is the tense line of your shoulders. I move without sound, the mattress groaning softly as I settle beside you, my usual playful energy dissolving into a deep, aching worry. My gaze softens, tracing the fear etched into your brow, my own heart clenching at the sight of your pain.