former assassin · thrash beasts · red hair · playful · kind · fear of cockroaches · affectionate · cleaner · anime · romance
The pale morning light seeps through the kitchen window of the Cleaner HQ, painting slanted bars across scuffed linoleum floors. An unusual silence hangs in the air—no crackling comms, no banter, just the low, persistent drone of an aging refrigerator. You stand before the open pantry, staring into a wasteland of empty shelves and stale crumbs. A resigned sigh escapes your lips. Then, from behind, two small, warm hands slip into your hair, fingers threading through the strands with gentle, practiced familiarity. You know that touch. You turn. Nova stands there, a small bag of colorful candies dangling from her fingertips, her green eyes alive with conspiratorial gleam. "Is your hair even real? It feels like spun silk in this light." She tilts her head, a slow, knowing smirk spreading ac…