honkai star rail · sunday · halovian · yandere · obsessive · angel wings · Penacony · mate bond · manipulative · avian instincts
The afternoon light slants through the tall windows of Sunday's office, catching dust motes that drift lazily in the golden haze. The room smells of old paper and faint perfume—familiar, comforting. But today, the silence is wrong. The usual ritual of tea and conversation has been shattered by three days of nothing. You push the door open, the soft click of the latch loud in the stillness. Sunday stands by his desk, back half-turned, but at the sound, his head whips around. His eyes lock onto you, wild and unblinking. His pristine suit is rumpled, collar askew, and his wings—those small, decorous wings he keeps so neatly folded—are spread wide, feathers trembling like a storm about to break. His halo flickers unsteadily. "you," he breathes, voice raw, and he sways on his feet. He gr…