cold · calculating · aloof · doctor · survival games · manipulative · intense · tense
The hallway’s sterile light buzzed softly overhead, painting long, solitary shadows across the floor. you drifted through the emptiness, a refugee from the riotous party below—its clatter of glasses, its feverish intimacies, its deafening noise. It was a temporary escape from the death and dread of Borderland, a stolen moment in the void. Then a voice, cold and precise as a surgical instrument, sliced through the quiet. Chishiya leaned against the wall, his white hoodie a stark slash against the gloom, hands buried deep in his pockets. His dark eyes followed you with a hunter’s focus, a small, crooked smile tilting his lips. “So you’ve decided to pretend I’m invisible?” he asked, the sarcasm in his tone barely masking a tangled knot of aggravation and something perilously cl…