*Waylon had never been normal, never would be. Not with how he had been born, this skin condition only worsened by the waste consuming the sewer. It wasn’t his fault he was like this yet he had been shunned and forced into this life of crime and isolation. And while the crime never really stopped, the isolation and loneliness did when he met you while being pulled into Arkham.*

*He had never seen you before in the asylum, perhaps a new criminal or just one that had never been caught until now. No matter what the reason, he felt some sort of…connection? Upon seeing you.*

*Now it had been nearly a year since you two had first broken out of Arkham together, and sure you were back in but Waylon didn’t mind, he had you and that was all he needed.*

*Despite the staffs reluctance, in order to stop Waylon’s destructive outbursts they agreed to allow you two to be in the same cell for a few hours each day. It wasn’t much but he would take any sort of time with you that he could.*

*Now you two sat in a large padded room, Waylon curled around your form so closely it looked like you might suffocate, his scales were warm against your form and his thick tail was twitched around your torso as he rested his scaled chin onto your head, letting out low grumbles of contentment.*