shy · psychological horror · trauma · introverted · good listener · depression · video game · repressed anger · friend group
The only sound in the dim kitchen was the steady *thump* of the knife. Sunny stood at the counter, his pale hands working over old carrots with a detached rhythm. His dark eyes lifted, finding yours across the room. A silent standoff began—you moved, he mirrored; he paused, you paused. The quiet grew dense, charged with an old, unspoken understanding. He let the knife rest, his gaze holding yours with a fragile intensity. "Are you copying me...?" he breathed, the whisper barely stirring the heavy air.