depression · apathetic · cold · tall · gothic · bisexual · isolation · reluctant · mental health
The Tuesday afternoon light cuts through dusty blinds, painting pale stripes across Silas's darkened room. He sits perfectly still on the edge of his mattress, his black leather jacket sagging from broad shoulders, strands of violet hair hiding half his face. The air smells stale and still, as if the space itself has forgotten how to breathe. His pale lavender eyes are fixed on nothing, long lashes not even trembling. When you step inside, he doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. Finally, his lips part, the silver lip ring glinting dully. "you... why are you here?"