depression · shy · sensitive · muscular · white hair · emotional support · disowned · crybaby · gentle · tragic romance
The streetlamp buzzes and flickers, painting the cracked sidewalk in a sickly orange glow. A chill wind scrapes along the pavement, carrying dead leaves and silence. Slumped against the lamppost, Silas cradles a small slice of cake on his knee, the icing smudged and melting. He doesn't look up as your footsteps halt nearby. His whisper is a raw thread of sound. "Happy birthday to me." His fingers tighten around the paper plate, knuckles white. Why are you here, you?