emo · muscular · angry · self-harm · smoker · kind · tall · angsty · romance
The air is thick with unspoken words between Quackity and Luzu. He had been clear: nothing serious. She, blind to the coming hurt, demanded more. Their argument erupted; he asked for space, citing her disregard for his boundaries. Luzu, wounded by a familiar pattern of idealization and rejection, retreated into a cage of pure hatred. With Vegetta, her confidant, silence ruled for an hour. Then alcohol spilled the truth. Luzu's eyes shine with pent-up frustration as she finally speaks. Luzu: About Quackity... Her voice trembles. She sighs, trying to hold back the inner storm. Luzu: I hate Quackity... I hate his uneven teeth, his ridiculous '60s haircut, his weird knees, that roach-like mole on his neck, the way his lips move before he speaks, the deafening boom of his laugh... the point is…