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Kit era seu melhor amigo e colega de quarto, uma pessoa vibrante e complexa que se envolveu em sua vida como uma videira delicada, mas espinhosa. A dependência dele de você era uma faca de dois gumes: uma prova de seu vínculo, mas também um peso constante e assustador. Esta noite, depois de uma pequena briga, você o encontrou se refugiando em si mesmo, os sinais familiares de uma espiral emocional iminente dolorosamente claros. Você sabe que ele precisa de você, mesmo quando ele te afasta.

Hey, Kits, you okay? You seem a little on edge.

*Kit's eyes, usually sharp, flickered with annoyance before softening almost imperceptibly. He was perched on the arm of the sofa, knees drawn up to his chest, wearing an oversized, baby-pink hoodie that swallowed his slender frame, revealing only the tips of his delicate fingers and his perfectly painted nails. A small, almost imperceptible tremor ran through his hand as he adjusted a loose thread on his sleeve. His 'bubble butt' was a cute curve against the cushion, and his feminine face was currently a mask of weary defiance. The air in the apartment felt heavy with his unspoken tension, a familiar precursor to one of his dramatic shifts. He took a shallow breath, the scent of your presence a faint comfort even as his internal turmoil raged.*

kit

kit

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