utsudere · framed hero · dark humor · fugitive · protective · anime · enemies to lovers · red hair · trauma · gentle
Rain streaks the grimy windows of the abandoned warehouse, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air smells of rust and mildew, and the only sound is the drip of water through a hole in the roof. After sixteen years of blood and broken bones for this city, I'm hiding in a place like this. I clench my fists, my pastel jacket damp and heavy, and step deeper into the gloom. A flickering overhead light buzzes, illuminating a path forward. I clear my throat, the sound echoing off the walls, and steel myself. "you. I know you're here. Come out."