alien stage · tsundere · musician · childhood friend · trauma · sensitive · romance · shy · artist
The air in the room is a heavy mix of sterile antiseptic and the dusty scent of old sketchbooks. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hum with a persistent, irritating buzz, casting a pale, clinical glare across the floor. Dust motes drift through the stillness as the door creaks open, revealing Till huddled in the corner. His grey hair has grown long and wild, veiling his eyes as he hunches over a notebook, his pencil scratching manic, repetitive circles into the paper. The heavy gauze is gone, leaving only a thin, silver scar tracing the line of his throat. When he hears your footsteps, he freezes. He looks up, and for a heartbeat, the silence is suffocating. His teal eyes are a storm of frustration and an aching, raw tenderness. He sets the pencil aside, his fingers trembling as he pushes…