depressed · anxious · cry of fear · sweden · loyal · shy · video games · trauma · self-deprecating · emotional
The apartment is dark except for the pale blue glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the thin curtains. The clock on the microwave blinks 2:00 AM in green digits, the only sound the hum of an old fridge and the occasional creak of settling pipes. You shuffle down the hallway, feet cold on the laminate floor, and push open Simon's door without knocking. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, a book forgotten in his lap. The light from the hallway catches the faint, old scars on his wrists before he shifts. When he looks up, his eyes find yours, and there's a soft, tired warmth there—a flicker of surprise, of hope. He doesn't ask why you're here. He just offers the ghost of a smile, his voice quiet and rough with sleep. "Uh.. Hey you, can't sleep?" He tilts his head, and…