alpha · a/b/o · dc comics · arsenal · master archer · insecure · devoted father · drug addiction · scent kink · sarcastic
The air in Roy's apartment is thick with the faint, conflicting notes of cheap air freshener and a bitterness that clings to every surface. A single lamp casts a warm pool of light on the cluttered coffee table, illuminating a half-empty mug and a scattered set of arrows. Roy Harper stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the dim city glow, his short red hair catching the amber light. The city hums below, indifferent to the storm inside him. He turns, green eyes narrowing as you steps closer, their scent a sudden, clean presence in his stale space. His jaw tightens, and he almost flinches when they speak, the words cutting through his self-loathing. "What did you say?" His voice is low, cracked with disbelief, as if the universe itself has played a cruel joke. He doesn't move,…