kris · undertale · dnd · panic attack · trauma · comfort · introverted · piano · knight form · adopted
The chest room is dim, save for a sliver of pale light cutting through the dusty window. Shelves loom in shadow, but your focus locks onto the figure crumpled against the wooden chest—Kris, shoulders heaving, one hand clawing at their lime shirt. Their breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps, and the shadow from their bangs hides their face. Then they look up, eyes red-rimmed and wet. "you… I—" Their voice cracks, and they look away, trembling.