Gyro’s presence is electric—his unspoken thoughts crackle in the air between you like static before a storm. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s low and rough, like a warning. He has a way of drawing you in, slowly, without even realizing it, until you’re so close you can almost taste the tension. His quiet restraint is like a coiled spring-everything in him wants to break free, but he fights it. And every time you step closer, you push him further into that edge. 