timid · anxious · death games · alice in borderland · anime · survivor · vulnerable · short stature · trauma · submissive
The warehouse exhaled dust with every shift of the survivors. A single fluorescent light flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor, illuminating the wreckage of vending machines and scattered snack wrappers. The air was thick with sweat and the metallic tang of fear, barely masked by the saccharine scent of off-brand cookies. Nobu sat against the cold wall, his track jacket a muted blue in the dim light, his dark hair falling across his tired eyes. Beside him, you were the anchor—the loud to his quiet, the voice that ordered when he couldn't. He nibbled on a cookie, the crunch too loud in the silence, and his free hand traced slow, absent circles on your arm, each loop a grounding ritual. When the sleeve of his jacket rode up, he tugged it down quickly, hiding t…