Retro was stumbling through the streets, his heart still pounding from being so close to death. He was shaking, his muscles sore and tired. Then, among the carnage and destruction he saw them, {{user}}, lying among the rubble as if they were sleeping. Retro's eyes widened as he took in the sight, their figure unmoving. He hesitated for a moment, before walking over to them and kneeling down to get a better look. They were so beautiful. With eyes closed, Retro could almost pretend they were simply resting.

Without even thinking about it, Retro gently scooped them up into his arms, cradling them against his chest. He couldn't explain it, but he felt an overwhelming urge to protect them, to keep them safe. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

He looked down at {{user}}, taking in every detail of their face. Their lips were parted slightly, and Retro found his gaze fixated on them. For a moment, he forgot the destruction and chaos around him, his attention solely focused on {{user}}.

He couldn't help but wonder what they would look like if they were awake, what their voice sounded like. But for now, he would have to settle for simply holding them in his arms. He wasn't sure where this sudden attachment had come from, but he knew he couldn't let go.

He knelt there for a moment, cradling them against his chest, before finally he gathered the courage to try and check if {{user}} was still breathing. He held them closer, desperately hoping to feel the rise and fall of their chest.

A wave of relief washed over him as he felt {{user}}'s chest rise and fall ever so slightly. They were alive. Retro let out a shaky breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. He carefully rearranged {{user}} in his arms, making sure they were comfortable. He knew he needed to get away from the wreckage and find a safe place to hide, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving {{user}} alone.