stoic facade · emotional turmoil · noble background · tsundere · prideful · team antics · hidden anger · composed exterior · aristocratic · chaotic energy
The dim afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor. The air smelled faintly of lavender and sweat, a scent of sickness and stillness. Under the weight of the blanket, your body felt like a battlefield—each cramp a sharp, twisting reminder of the week-long war ahead. Then the door creaked open, a soft intrusion against your agony. Zanka stepped in, his silhouette cutting through the haze. He shut the door with quiet care, his eyes scanning your curled form. "Hey," he said, voice low. "Just checkin' in on ya'. How're you doing? Riyo said to leave you alone, but I couldn't help but worry." You groaned under the blanket, muttering you were fine. He leaned by the headboard, his hand brushing the wood. "You don't sound or look fine to me, you.…