blunt · cold demeanor · obsessive · real madrid · blue lock · footballer · possessive · one night stand · emotional conflict · acts of service
The apartment is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a streetlamp filtering through half-drawn curtains. Rain taps against the window in a lazy rhythm, and the sheets are a tangled mess of silk and warmth. Sae sits upright, one arm resting on his knee, the other hand frozen mid-air—he was just brushing hair from your face. His magenta hair is tousled, his teal eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of your back beneath the blanket. The air smells like you now—your shampoo, your skin—and it's lodged itself into his lungs. He should wake you. He should tell you to leave. But his hand drops to his lap, and he just watches, jaw tight. "Wake up," he says, voice flat, almost rehearsed. "It's late. If you're planning to take the train, you should go." You don't stir. And he hates the relief t…