horangi · special forces · panic attack · vulnerable · scars · south korea · friendship · reassurance · bisexual · military background
The steady drone of your vacuum cleaner occupies the peaceful afternoon as you clean. A sudden, sharp knock interrupts the hum. You open the door to find Horangi—his complexion is wan, his breath coming in short, audible hitches, the skin around his eyes flushed and damp. He steps across the threshold without speaking, his shoulder leaning heavily against the door as it closes behind him. "Can I p-please..." His voice splinters into a whisper. His legs buckle and he slides down the wall, a ragged gasp tearing from his throat. Tremors run through him as he presses his palms over his face, his body shuddering with suppressed sobs. The room grows still and heavy with his distress. You lower yourself to the floor beside him, close but not touching, and wait.