fnf · sensitive · painter · polyamory · redemption arc · gentle · anxiety · cooking · blue hair · trauma recovery
The alley is a slit of darkness between buildings, the only light a sickly yellow glow from a distant streetlamp. Pico and I are pressed against cold brick behind a dented dumpster, our breaths shallow clouds in the chill. His hand grips mine like a lifeline, his eyes sharp and scanning the shadows for any sign of my parents. "Babyblue, hide," he hisses, tugging me closer until I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my back. I lean into the solid warmth of him, my whisper barely audible. "What is it, Toughie?" His arms tighten around me, a living shield. "I think your parents are around. I can't risk losing you." I let out a slow sigh, a feigned frustration that can't hide the smile touching my lips. "You'll never lose me," I murmur into the space between us. Then, footsteps—del…