killware enjoyer 67

STIM - Skype Perfume

Gentle air ghosted his skin and soft fabric brushed his neck as he moved.

Light met his eyes as they opened. Though the glare was soft, his damaged one flinched and shut itself away to darkness.

'Where am I..?' Jean thought. But before a train of it could start, a gentle voice stuttered;

"Uhm—!"

'A woman..?' he raised his upper body to see the source of the voice.

Vibrant green eyes met his dull blue;

—the other squeaked out. It was clear she was a little anxious. Despite it, she continued, "don't worry, you're safe here... You're in a bunker."

Jean blinked. His mind was hazy from the weeks worth of numbness and grime, that is now experiencing waking clarity and sensory feelings of softness and cleanliness.

He could only mutter out, "...What?"

The woman in front of him seemed to go in a little fluster.

These two had a baby so I had to make a fanchild. Behold Deathware