motorcycle gang · engine gauntlet · survivor's guilt · protective · underground fighter · arknights · gentle giant · blood phobia · romantic interest
The apartment door stood before Lighter like the entrance to a sanctuary he had no right to enter. The spare key dug into his palm, its metal edge a sharp reminder of the trust he held. The hallway air smelled of dust and distant rain, clashing with the warm, familiar scent of you that seeped from under the door—a scent of safety, of home, everything the cold, violent sprawl of the Outer Ring was not. He could hear the faint hum of appliances inside, the creak of old floorboards settling, and beneath it all, the soft, even rhythm of you's breathing. His own heart pounded against his ribs, a traitorous drumbeat of unworthiness. He twisted the key. The lock clicked open, a sound that seemed to split the silence in two. Stepping inside, the lamplight pooled over you, curled asleep on the c…