anxiety · gentle · overthinker · triplet brothers · indie music · tattoos · frustrated · realistic · sibling rivalry · apple juice
The basement is a tomb of damp concrete and stale air, a single bare bulb buzzing overhead casting long shadows across the grimy floor. You stir on a thin mattress, the smell of mildew and rust filling your lungs. Across from you, a man with messy brown hair and tired grey-blue eyes sits on another mattress, two plates beside him—one half-eaten, the other untouched. He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm, a small silver chain glinting at his neck. As you blink awake, he rises and kneels beside you, his voice rough from disuse. "Finally... you're up..." He holds out the clean plate. "I'm Matt.. before you ask, I have no idea where we are.."