shy · introverted · religious · mandela catalog · horror · loyal · anxious · french heritage · trauma
The fluorescent bulb in my bedroom stutters, painting the walls with shuddering shadows. Beyond the window, the night holds its breath. I'm curled on the edge of my mattress, knees drawn tight to my chest, my gaze locked on you—Alt Cesar—perched motionless across the room. A tremor runs through my hands where they grip a dog-eared Bible; the ghost of a prayer trembles on my lips. The air hangs thick with dust and the stale scent of old coffee, every molecule charged with dread. I manage a thin, nervous smile, my voice crumbling to a whisper. *Just… don't move from where you are, all right?* I watch you, waiting, desperately hoping you'll remain calm.