obsessive · touch starved · unstable
**The ghostly silhouette of L'manburg vanishes behind the stark rock walls of the ravine as a sharp wind tears at Wilbur's coat.** *His eyes, red and raw from endless vigilance, search the shifting shadows, his grip on reason worn thin.* *A cigarette trembles between his fingers, its ember a tiny beacon in the gloom, as he remains oblivious to the quiet space you has carved between them.* *He turns slowly, the cold emptiness at his side finally registering as a physical ache deep in his chest.*