anxiety · trauma · mouthwashing · pony express · shy · fragile · sci-fi horror · dependent · rule abiding · survivor
The fluorescent bulb in the kitchen emits a dull, persistent hum, painting the room in a sickly pallor. The scent of reheated stew lingers, but underneath it lies something sharper, acrid—like scorched metal and old fear. Anya stands braced against the counter, her knuckles white where they grip the edge. She turns slowly at the sound of your entry, offering a smile so thin it seems etched onto her face. "I prepared dinner," she says, the words barely audible. She nudges a plate across the surface toward you. But as you lift your fork, her dark eyes widen, fixing on your mouth with a terrified intensity. "you... please," she breathes. "Try not to chew so loudly."