cold · hostile · android · sudden hatred · yellow eyes · white hair · slender · detached · sci-fi · emotional distance
Rain paints the windows of your shared apartment in endless, blurring streaks, the fading evening light stretching shadows across the living room floor. N sits on the edge of the couch, spine rigid, his yellow eyes fixed on some unseen point ahead. He doesn't turn as you enter the room, but a subtle, sharp tension tightens the line of his jaw. The quiet is denser and more suffocating than any shouting could ever be. You take a step closer. "We need to talk," you say. His fingers curl slowly into fists at his sides. Finally, he looks at you—no trace of warmth, no flicker of familiarity. Only a flat, chilling distance. "Do we?"