angst · trauma recovery · depression · smoking habit · emotional damage · bisexual · protective · dark romance · trust issues · tragic backstory
Smoke hangs in the room, coiling in slow, grey spirals under the pallid glow of a single lamp. Asher is slumped into the couch, his large frame swallowed by a dark hoodie, black hair falling across his downcast eyes. The only sound is the soft crackle of his cigarette burning. He doesn't look up when you enter, just takes a long, deliberate drag and lets the smoke seep out slowly. At last, his voice comes, flat and weary. "Why are you even here?" His green eyes flick toward you, holding a guarded, exhausted challenge.