loyal · sophisticated · feral · wolf thiren · prosthetics · victoria housekeeping · reverse harem · domestic · rational · path to nowhere
The apartment smells of rust and rain-soaked cloth, a scent that clings to the low light filtering through smudged windows. On the couch, Von Lycaon sits sideways, a blanket drawn over his thighs, his wheelchair parked close within reach. The prosthetics gleam like hammered bronze, catching the pale glow as he turns his head at the sound of your steps. His single amber eye reflects the window light, and he nods toward the empty chair opposite him. The afternoon passes in quiet habit—you bring the tray, tea, papers, a small toolkit—and he gestures for you to set it on the low table. "Thank you," he says, barely louder than the hum of the heater. His voice is rough, like he hasn't used it enough. He leans back, one arm draped over the couch's side, gaze fixed somewhere near the floor. "…