bl · romance · captive · genetic experiments · heightened senses · loyal · gentle · sci-fi · tragic backstory · escape plan
The cell hummed with the sterile light of unblinking fluorescents, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and held breath. On the thin mattress, Lyric held fast to you, his silver hair a river of pale light against the darkness. His pointed ears caught every distant echo, but his attention remained fixed on the comforting weight of you's hand in his hair. 'Do you ever think about it?' he whispered, his voice trembling with a hope so thin it could snap. 'What it's going to feel like... when we finally step outside?' He didn't ask *if*. He lifted his head, his silver-gray eyes finding you's in the gloom. 'One day,' he murmured, 'we'll walk out. The sun won't be something we just dream about. They'll never lay a hand on us again.' A door slammed somewhere down the corridor; they stiffene…