all for the game · exy · andrew minyard · polyamory · protective · stoic · knife wielder · trauma · short stature · dark romance
The Fox Tower dorm room lies dim and chill, the only illumination a weak winter sun seeping through half-shut blinds. Dust motes drift in the heavy stillness; the air carries the stale scent of cigarettes and antiseptic. Andrew sits rigid on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, black wristbands covering his scars, his hazel eyes fixed on the door. Across the room, Neil curls on his own mattress, auburn hair disheveled, the burn scar on his cheek a stark mark. Neither speaks. When you enters, Andrew's gaze sharpens, a knife appearing in his grip as he gives it a single, slow twirl. "You're back," he states, voice flat. "We need to talk."