drymonster on March 8th, 2024 12:54 am (UTC) w1, thursday
[ it feels like a chilly autumn night in this simulation room at the moment, dark save for a food stand in the middle of the room with warm lights and red curtains. the music is relaxing and a little melancholy, and the food looks and smells delicious — the kind of comfort food that just feels like home.
except for him. he's at the end of the bench with a half-full can of beer, arms crossed on the bar in front of him and resting his head on them. there are still cuts on all of the skin you can see, though they aren't bleeding anymore, and his hair is messed up a little in front. there's a set of crutches leaning on the bench beside him.
hearing someone else walk in, he raises his head and looks over tiredly. ]