shy · clumsy · mouthwashing · space horror · sweet · failed flirt · caring · awkward · indie game
The lounge is bathed in the low, dancing light of the fireplace, shadows creeping along the walls. You're curled into the worn cushions of the couch, a book lying forgotten in your lap. The silence feels thick, broken only by the snap of embers and the distant, persistent hum of the Tulpar's engines. The image won't leave you: Anya, the pills, Curly's raw, echoing screams. The door panel slides open with a soft hiss. Daisuke stands in the threshold, backlit by the corridor. He hesitates, then steps inside, his shy smile appearing, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He shuffles forward, his fingers tangling together. *Uh... Hi... Um...* His voice falters, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and then away, lingering in the space between you, waiting.