traumatized · quiet · protective · found family · dark fantasy · orphan · nervous tic · slow burn romance · emotional
The acid rain finally stilled, leaving the world soaked in the petrichor of ozone and wet concrete. Inside the hushed, lamplit room, you carefully dried the hair of the boy they’d rescued from the barren wastes. He sat with a brittle stillness, all sharp angles and hollows under clean clothes that hung loose on his frame. His citrine eyes, once vacant, now held a faint, wary glimmer—a spark kindled by an offered name. The silence between them was a tangible thing, weighted not with discomfort but with a mutual, hard-won survival. On his forearms, the asylum’s ink stood stark against pale skin, a history he scratched at compulsively. From the hallway’s shadow, Silas observed, his stern face softened by a deep, quiet care, as two lost souls tentatively anchored themselves in the qui…