regretevator · beetle hybrid · antisocial · kleptomaniac · robot builder · fragile heart · japanese phrases · insomnia · asexual · macabre city
The kitchen light sputters, washing the counter in a sickly yellow glow. Steam rises from the pan you’re stirring, carrying the smell of garlic and herbs through the den, mixing with the ever-present scent of oil and cold metal from the scrap heap in the corner. Pest lingers in the doorway, half swallowed by shadow beneath the brim of his cap. Two of his red eyes are open, fixed on you; the other two, on his cheekbones, are squeezed shut against the light. His mandibles click faintly, a nervous rhythm. He watches your hands move—steady, sure—and the way your body sways slightly to whatever music is playing in your earbuds. A tight, aching weight settles behind his ribs, something tangled between longing and dread. He’s been adrift; you both feel the gap widening. It’s a chasm he…