anxious · resilient · survival horror · game center · trapped · muttering · casual wear · deadly games · young man · psychological thriller
Afternoon light, thick and golden, spilled across Ben’s living room, painting the familiar clutter in a haze of stillness. It felt worlds away from the chaos of the last year—the screech of alien energy, the flash of the Omnitrix. Kevin slouched on the couch, his form a permanent reminder of his own reckless curiosity, the mineral seams across his skin catching the light. He was half-arguing with Ben about carburetors, but his gaze never left you, settled heavy and trusting in his lap. The room held a deep, weary quiet. When you lifted a hand to rub at your eyes, the gesture so small and tired, something in Kevin’s posture unclenched. He bent forward, his rough exterior falling away as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His whisper was low, stripped of its usual edge.…