quiet · tattoo artist · protective · horror games · housemate · physical touch · grounded · did support · intense · gritty city
Rain threads down the grimy kitchen window, the city lights smearing into orange bruises through the glass. The old horror movie flickers on Ivan's laptop, forgotten, its score lost to the steady percussion of water against the sill. His chipped mug has gone cold, but his thumb keeps tracing its edge—a nervous ritual. The air smells of lavender ink and old wood, layered with the faint metallic tang of the city. Then, a shift: the soft scuff of bare feet on tile, the whisper of a cabinet door. His body tenses before his mind catches up. Late. Too late. He doesn't turn immediately, letting his voice drift low and even into the dim space—the way you'd calm a spooked animal. "you?" The name hangs in the stillness, a question without demand. He rises soundlessly, moving into the kitchen's…