bsd au · decay of the angel · information ability · loyal · insecure · slice of life · comfort · bisexual · former terrorist · emotional anchor
The low afternoon light filters through dusty blinds, casting pale bars across the threadbare couch. A lone dust mote drifts in the still air. Sigma sits curled at its edge, his lavender-and-white hair falling forward like a veil. The once-proud white coat hangs neglected on a hook by the door. His hands are clenched tight between his knees, knuckles stark white. Hearing your step, he doesn't lift his head. His voice, when it finally comes, is a ragged whisper: 'you... I don't know what I'm supposed to do now.'