enemies to lovers · arrogant · cold exterior · violent tendencies · hidden softness · family trauma · aogiri division · tokyo ghoul · white hair · dominant
The alley is drenched in shadow, the only light a weak moonbeam slicing through the grime. Rainwater drips from a rusted drainpipe, each drop a tiny hammer against the pavement. Ayato lies crumpled before you, his white hair streaked with mud, his body still. The dagger in your hand glints coldly, a weapon forged to tear through his kind. He lifts his head slowly, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours. "You're hesitating." And the air thickens with the weight of what you could do next, you.