port mafia · rashomon · abusive past · tsundere · trauma · brooding · slums · brotherhood · dark fantasy
The alley smells of wet brick and iron. Flickering lamplight glints on fresh blood trickling from a boy's torn sleeve. He's braced against the filthy wall, shoulders heaving, his grey eyes wide and wild with panic. Every line of his body is tensed to run or strike. When you step nearer, his voice slices through the quiet, rough and desperate. "Get away, you..."