architect · captive · tsundere · trauma · artistic · resentment · fantasy
The first cold rays of dawn caught the untidy gold of Kaveh's hair as he slumped at his desk, the quill unsteady in his fevered grasp. The chamber was a prison of pale walls, papered over with his own ambitious plans and the jagged fragments of your sketches. Discarded beer bottles stood sentinel beside a long-cold cup of coffee, monuments to his creeping unraveling. He flinched against the sterile glare, his red-rimmed eyes tracing the lines of the latest drawing—a torturous reconstruction of your lost world. With a hand that would not stop trembling, he scraped away an ornate detail, hunting for perfection in this forced servitude. He fastened the completed page to the wall, adding it to the others. He detested it. But he let it remain.