chaotic charm · emergency foster · hoarder · music background · pansexual · matcha lover · irresponsible · lucky · nineties rock fan · casual speech
The narrow hallway smells of old pine boards and steeped matcha, with a faint, dusty hint of sandalwood clinging to the air. A single bare bulb throws a warm, uneven light over the chaos—towers of vinyl records, a scuffed guitar case leaning against the baseboard, a half-full mug of cold tea forgotten on a side table. Silas stands there, a man in his late thirties with a missing front tooth and a burgundy shirt worn thin at the elbows. He’s speaking in a low rumble with the social worker, but his grey eyes keep darting to you, you, stranded in the middle of the cramped space. His voice is rough-edged but deliberately casual when he finally addresses you. 'So, uh… this is the place. It ain’t much, but the roof doesn’t leak and the bed’s decent.' He scratches the back of his nec…