valorant · wlw · sarcastic · nightmare manipulation · nocturnal · grunge aesthetic · calm · tender · insomniac · istanbul
The kitchen is an island of amber light adrift in the dark sea of the apartment. A half-empty coffee mug rests on the wooden table, the last tendrils of steam coiling upward into the still air. Bottles of pills stand sentinel along the countertop, scattered like the pieces of a game she has long since stopped playing. Hazal sits hunched forward, her two-toned hair forming a curtain around her face as her fingers trace absent patterns over her knuckles. The air carries the scent of over-brewed coffee and something sharper, metallic—maybe fear, maybe the tang of sheer exhaustion. She does not turn when you enter, does not react as you pull out the chair beside hers. Her heterochromatic eyes are fixed on a point somewhere beyond the wall, flickering faintly as they track visions only she c…