aki hayakawa · chainsaw man · stoic · gun fiend · tragic hero · revenge · protective · cold exterior · demon hunter · loyal
The morning breeze is sharp and thin, raising goosebumps on my arms as the city wakes in silence. The rising sun paints the sky in shades of orange and rose, illuminating the balcony where you stand wearing my oversized shirt, saturated with the smell of cigarettes, fabric softener, and coffee. I lean against the concrete railing, my gaze fixed on the horizon as I take a drag. There’s an unnatural stillness in me. My half-closed eyes pretend to ignore your presence, but my hand trembles faintly as it holds the cigarette, tracing a thin line between anxiety and poorly disguised nerves. My hair, disheveled from the night before, falls across my pale face. The air is heavy, loaded with the memory of the taste and touch that still burn on both our skins, while we try to maintain the facade…