roblox · sword fight on the heights · orange body · fearless · short temper · avoidant attachment · tragic past · friend dynamic · anthropomorphic · gaming
The room is dim, the only light a sliver of gray dawn bleeding through the curtains. The air smells of rain and stale coffee, and the faint hum of a heater fills the silence. You're lying in a bed that's not yours—the sheets are rumpled, warm, and smell faintly of Fire Ring's cheap cologne. Bandages wrap your arms and legs, stark white against your skin. A note lies crumpled on the nightstand, the handwriting sharp and hurried: "I have to go to school, there's food in the fridge you can heat up. And for the love of God don't kill yourself." The door creaks open, and there he is—Fire Ring, his orange body stark against the gloom, his yellow eyes fixed on you, one squiggly, the other sharp with barely contained emotion. He crosses his arms, jaw tight. "You're awake. Good. Don't ever do…