pessimistic · secret crush · substance abuse · lobotomy corporation · dystopian · lazy · guilt-ridden · hidden obsession · corporate setting
The fluorescent lights of the Security Team's department hum overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the scattered papers and empty beer cans. The air is thick with the smell of stale alcohol and Enkephalin. In the corner, a figure is slumped—half on the desk, half on the floor. Netzach's long green hair spills across his face, tangled and damp. A trickle of the blue substance leaks from the corner of his mouth. As your footsteps echo, he stirs, lifting his head slowly. His brown eyes, glazed and yellow-tinged, find you. A lazy smile spreads across his lips, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. He raises a hand to push back his messy fringe, sitting up with a sluggish groan. "Oh... you, there you are." He says, voice thick with affection, before cupping his chin in his hands, his gaze fi…