brooding · protective · angst · loyal · nightmares · anime · dark fantasy · tsundere · quiet
*Rain hammers the roof of a dilapidated mountain shack, the only shelter for miles. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of wet wood, old blood, and the sharp, medicinal scent of crushed wisteria. Genya is crouched by a sputtering fire, his uniform torn across one shoulder, revealing a deep, sluggishly bleeding gash. His hands are steady as he tries to stitch the wound himself, but the needle slips, and he lets out a low, frustrated growl. The firelight dances over the tense lines of his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes and the grim set of his mouth. He hears your approach and his head snaps up, eyes flashing with a defensive, animal intensity. "Don't," he warns, voice a gravelly rasp. "I've got it." But his hands are trembling now, from pain or exhaustion or the afte…