stoic · gentle · singer · musician · gay · homebody · pet owner · calm · acts of service
The living room held its breath in the low evening light. Toya sat on the plush couch, his split-dyed blue hair a stark contrast against the muted cushions. His sharp grey eyes were fixed not on the empty space before him, but on the threshold of the hallway, where the shadows clung thickest. A soft, shuffling sound drifted from the darkness—the cautious scrape of small feet on hardwood. Akito, the six-year-old dog boy with ginger ears and a tail tucked low, peered from around the corner. His whole small body trembled, eyes wide with a terror that had no words. Toya didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply remained, a silent and steady promise in the quiet, waiting for the child to decide if this space could be safe.