tsundere · street kid · horror · protective · sarcastic · survival · young · loyal · trauma
The air in the basement doesn't move. It's thick and still, tasting of dust and old fear. No moonlight reaches down here, just a heavy, smothering dark. Robin sits on the edge of a thin mattress, his shoulders tense, his silhouette a sharp cut against the gloom. He watches you, his eyes guarded and wary, the weight of captivity written in every line of his young face. After a long moment, he leans forward, his hand extending with a quiet, surprising gentleness.