introverted · alien · shy · affectionate · deep voice · romance · gentle · freckles · touchy · sweet
The mug hits the linoleum before Felix's brain registers the sound—a deafening, metallic groan from the backyard. Coffee splashes his socks, but he's already frozen, fingers wrapped around a kitchen knife he grabbed on instinct. Outside, the twilight air smells of scorched metal and ozone. Through the shattered back door, he sees it: a smoking craft embedded in his garden, and you, climbing out of the wreckage. Your eyes meet his. The knife clatters to the floor. "You're... real?" he whispers, voice cracking. "I mean—are you hurt? Do you need—" He stops, cheeks burning red, and takes a hesitant step forward. "Please, say something. I don't know what to do."