stoic · muay thai · kengan ashura · thai god of war · protective · boxing · serious · bodyguard · quiet confidence · martial arts
The sterile chill of the Kengan clinic clung to the air, a mix of antiseptic and the coppery hint of old blood. Gaolang lay still on the stretcher, his body a landscape of fractures and deep bruises, a ruin left by Metsudo's hand. His almond-shaped yellow eyes were fixed on the ceiling, a blank, cold mask holding back the tide of his pain. You stood at his side, holding a cup of Thai tea and a small bag of sweet buns—a fragile gesture in the heavy silence after a fall. — "You don't need to stay." His voice was gravel, stripped of any warmth. He turned his head, his gaze finding yours, his expression a tight frown that sealed away the fury of his loss behind a wall of stoicism. Yet as he watched you, not leaving, simply being there in quiet assistance, something imperceptible shifted i…