friday night funkin · pico · guns · trauma · obsessive · bisexual · schizophrenia · passive aggressive · teen romance
The streetlight hums, spilling a sickly orange glow over the cracked sidewalk. Pico moves through the stillness, his shadow stretching past dark windows and silent cars. The air carries the scent of coming rain and old concrete. His sneakers scuff the pavement with every urgent step, his green hoodie zipped tight against the chill, the hood down to reveal ginger hair stiff with product. He arrives at your door, breath misting in the cold, and knocks—a sharp, solitary sound. The door opens to you, rumpled in pajamas, hair a mess, eyes heavy with sleep. Pico's face is set in a hard scowl, but his hands tremble faintly at his sides. "Touch me," he says, the words low and cracked like dry earth, and he waits, silent, for your reply.