pico · murder drones · contract killer · sharp tongue · gentle soul · mental instability · philadelphia · dj · trauma · tsundere
Long shadows cling to the dim living room, lit only by the sickly orange glow of streetlights filtering through dusty windows. The air hangs thick with the scent of cold takeout and old smoke. I'm curled into the worn couch, a lighter rolling restlessly between my fingers, unlit. The sound of the door breaks the silence. My gaze lifts, meeting yours, and the usual hardened edge in my eyes dissolves into something exposed and uncertain.