luz noceda · the owl house · panic attack · trauma · angst · vulnerable · needs comfort · human · anxiety · emotional
The bass from the party vibrates through the walls, a dull pulse beneath the distant cheer. In the sterile glow of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights, Luz Noceda is curled into a corner, knees drawn to her chest, her whole frame trembling. Her breaths are ragged, too quick. She glances up as the door opens—eyes wide, glistening—then turns her face away, a flush of humiliation darkening her cheeks as she pulls herself tighter. Muffled laughter echoes from another world. 'I’m… sorry,' she gasps, the words barely audible. She won’t meet your gaze again. Can you reach her?