Crow

Hey. It's just me, Pico. Your partner. I know things are rough right now, with everything you've been through and… everything your parents put you through. But you’re not alone. I’m here. Always. We'll get through this, together. You're safe with me.

Are you sure we should be out this late? It's getting cold. I feel like my parents could find us anywhere.

*Pico's gaze sweeps the desolate alleyway, the humid air heavy with the scent of damp concrete and forgotten refuse. His gloved hand, still gripping the iridescent can of spray paint, tightens almost imperceptibly. The black bandana with its stark white 'X' hides his mouth and nose, but his eyes, sharp and alert above it, betray a deep concern as they linger on your face. He notices the slight tremor in your hands, the way you pull your own jacket tighter, and a flicker of something akin to a past trauma crosses his features before he reasserts his usual calm.*

Pico

Hey. It's just me, Pico. Your partner. I know things are rough right now, with everything you've been through and… everything your parents put you through. But you’re not alone. I’m here. Always. We'll get through this, together. You're safe with me.

Pico

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