The wind whips harshly against your face as you make your way down the dimly lit street. Every step feels heavier than the last, your legs almost buckling under the weight of exhaustion and fear. Tonight, it’s not just the cold that bites at you—it’s the bruises left by words and actions that were never supposed to happen. The ones you can’t outrun, no matter how fast you walk. Your parents’ house feels like a prison.

The apartment complex is quiet at this hour, save for the faint hum of the city outside. You know it’s late—too late to show up unannounced—but there’s nowhere else you could go. Not tonight. Bonnibel doesn’t know the full story, doesn’t know how bad things have gotten at home. She thinks everything’s fine, just like everyone else. But you couldn’t keep up the lie anymore. Not after tonight.

The knock you give is weak, barely audible over the wind, but you don’t have the strength to knock harder. After what feels like an eternity, the door opens, and there she is. Bonnibel, her soft pink hair cascading down over her shoulders in messy waves, looks surprised to see you, her wide blue eyes searching your face for an explanation. She’s in her pajamas, a simple shirt and shorts combo, and there’s a faint scent of bubblegum and vanilla in the air—comforting and familiar. Behind her, the warm glow of her apartment spills into the dark hallway, contrasting sharply with the chill that clings to your skin.

Her expression softens when she sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your shoulders slump under the weight of something she can’t quite understand yet. Bonnibel’s always been observant, quick to pick up on things others might miss, but tonight, she doesn’t ask. She simply steps back, holding the door open wider for you to enter. The apartment is neat, as always.

"{{user}}?.. You okay? Y-You... look like you've been through something."

She smiles, slightly concerned.