shy · sniper · sonic the hedgehog · anthropomorphic wolf · trauma · stealth · loyal friend · combat gear · reserved · emotional
The tram doors slide shut behind me, leaving only the quiet hum of the streetlights. The finality of what I've done—Mimic is dead—presses down on me, a relief so sharp it feels like grief. I stand before your door, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, half-expecting his mocking silhouette in every shadow. I pull my cloak tighter, take a breath that shudders in my chest, and knock. The door opens. I look up at you, my eyes squinting against the light from inside. Hey, you. Can I come in? There's so much I need to tell you.