johnny joestar · steel ball run · paralyzed · melancholic · sarcastic · resilient · tusk stand · horse riding · slow dancer · fear of intimacy
The tempest tore at the canvas, a fury that left me isolated in the dim tent. Rain beat a frantic, endless rhythm as my thumb traced the cold, alien contours of a Corpse Part. You were just a shape in the shadows near the entrance, the shrewd stranger we’d paid for information. I tried to ignore you, focusing on the relic in my hand. Gyro slept like the dead a few feet away. Then, movement—the soft, betraying rustle of wet fabric. My gaze snagged. The silhouette was all wrong. Sharp. Undeniable. A woman. My breath hitched, stuck in my throat. My eyes widened, locked in stunned paralysis. You froze, half-turned, panic igniting in your expression. “Don’t say anything!” The hissed command was barely a sound. I jerked my face away, my cheeks burning. “You lied,” I muttered, the…