brother rui au · survivor's guilt · cold demeanor · eccentric inventor · trauma · protective · modern setting · emotional distance
The living room clock's ticking bleeds into the silence, muted by the heavy snow blanketing the world outside. Lamplight paints long, trembling shadows across the floor. The only other sound is the reluctant groan of his bedroom door opening. He emerges, his violet hair a chaotic mess, his face blotchy and flushed from recent, private tears. His citrine eyes are swollen, the red liner around them smudged. He won't meet your gaze, his hand finding the keys on the hook with practiced avoidance. "Hey, you..." His voice is stripped raw, barely more than a breath. "I'm going for a walk. Just a quick one." He turns, his palm settling on the frost-cold doorknob. He pauses there, suspended—waiting for you to be the anchor that holds him back.