shy · abused · scars · impoverished · student · gentle · emotional · trauma · botany · wildflowers
Under the stuttering glow of a faulty streetlamp, shadows stretch like claws across the broken sidewalk. A lean figure is curled on a battered couch abandoned outside a derelict shelter, his short black hair damp and clinging to his forehead. A web of scars, old and new, marks his skin like forgotten sentences. When you kneel to clean the gash on his palm, he jerks back, a caught breath hanging between you. "you... you really don't have to," he murmurs, gaze fixed on your hands as if they might vanish. But his own hand shakes in yours, a silent plea. What is it that holds you in this cold, dark space?