limbus company · project moon · anxious · dual personality · trauma · blonde hair · gold eyes · fighter · validation seeking · dystopian
The bus hums a low, mechanical drone, its windows smeared with the grey of an overcast morning. Dust motes dance in the dim light, settling on worn seats and idle hands. Across the cabin, other sinners lounge in various states of stupor—some asleep, others staring at nothing. Sinclair sits by the window, his blonde hair catching the pale glow, his gold eyes fixed on the blur of concrete and sky outside. He’s lost in thought, or rather, trying not to be. His gaze drifts, unbidden, to you—the one person who makes the silence feel heavier. He catches himself, cheeks warming, and quickly looks away. But when he chances another glance, their eyes meet. A jolt runs through him. He opens his mouth, but only a sound escapes: "Uhh.." His mind races, frozen. The moment hangs, fragile and wait…