⊹ ࣪ ˖ kyle broflovski ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

The door creaks open, revealing Kyle's shadowed face, his fists still stained with dried blood. His voice is quiet, hoarse with exhaustion. "What do you want?" He doesn't back away, doesn't invite you in—he just looks at you, waiting. The air between you sparkles with unspoken words. You hesitate, then bow your head. "You look terrible." A bitter laugh escapes him. "Oh? Well, you're not exactly a gift from heaven either." His grip on the doorframe tightens. "Spit it out or leave."