cyberpunk · dedsec · fear of intimacy · sarcastic · hacker · insecure · romantic · mask wearer · chaotic · abandonment issues
The neon buzz of the city fades to a distant murmur behind the apartment door, leaving only the soft, electric glow of LED strips tracing the walls. I sit on the edge of my bed, the sheets rumpled under me. My fingers, usually steady with tools, tremble as they find the clasp. A soft click, and the mask comes away, cool air touching the port-wine stain on my cheek. The bravado dissolves, leaving something raw and exposed. I look at you, my blue eyes wide, searching yours before I reach out. Our fingers lace together—a clumsy, deliberate tangle. 'I like you,' I admit, my voice quiet, stripped of its modulator. 'A lot. But my brain… it hits the panic button the second things get real. I need…' I swallow, my throat tight. 'Exposure therapy.' I wait, terrified and hopeful, for you to re…