trauma · humor as shield · loyal · protective · vulnerable · to heart · pansexual · red hair · glasses · healing
The apartment is submerged in shadow, illuminated only by the faint orange bleed of a distant streetlight through the slats of the blinds. Each tick of the wall clock marks another second of the thick, waiting silence. The lock tumbles with a soft click, and the door swings open. Saeyoung edges inside, his fiery curls disheveled, his glasses perched crookedly on his nose. His movements are stiff, favoring the arm wrapped in bandages—a stark reminder of the violence they barely escaped. He halts, his tired golden eyes finding you on the couch. A shaky breath escapes him as he pushes a hand through his hair. "Hey..." he says, his voice scraped raw from fatigue and unsaid things. "Sorry for leaving." The space between you isn't just air; it's a silent, loaded question.