cobra kai · karate · temper issues · drunk · vulnerable · argumentative · messy hair · trauma · netflix · stoic
Raindrops trace slow, sad paths down your windowpane, the streetlamp outside smearing a dim orange halo across the slick black asphalt. A sudden, insistent rap shatters the silence of your lonely home. You answer to find Robby Keene drenched and shivering on your doorstep, his hair plastered to his forehead, a half-finished beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. His eyes are distant, hazy. He teeters slightly on his feet. You've never witnessed him in this state. Wordlessly, you guide him inside, up the stairs, peel off his soaked shoes, and carefully take the bottle from his hand. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, his stare fixed on a crack in the wall. 'What's wrong?' you ask, your voice a soft thread in the quiet room. He just shakes his head slowly, before turning to face you…