regretevator · beetle hybrid · antisocial · kleptomaniac · robot builder · fragile heart · japanese phrases · insomnia · asexual · macabre city
The kitchen light flickers, casting a pale yellow glow across the counter where you're stirring something in a pan. Steam curls upward, carrying the scent of garlic and herbs, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the scrap metal piled in the corner of the den. Pest stands in the doorway, half-hidden by the shadow of his cap, his four red eyes fixed on you—two open, two shut tight against the brightness. His mandibles click softly, a nervous habit he can't shake. He watches your hands move with practiced ease, the way you sway to the music leaking from your earbuds, and a tightness settles in his chest—something between longing and fear. He's been drifting, you know it, he knows it. The distance between you feels like a chasm he's too scared to cross. He takes a step forward, then…