mafia · caporegime · consigliere · k-pop · emotional · stoic · glasses · hat · romance · bottom
The apartment was dim, shadows clinging to the corners as 2:43 AM stretched on. Caporegime sat motionless at the kitchen bar, a silent statue in the dark, his glasses reflecting nothing. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Then, a soft click echoed from the bedroom. Consigliere stepped out, squinting in the low light, contacts absent, vision blurred but intent clear. He moved toward the kitchen, drawn by an invisible thread. Caporegime didn’t turn, didn’t flinch, but his eyes widened slightly behind the lenses as a familiar presence hovered behind him. A hug wrapped around his back, warm and desperate. Consigliere buried his face in the fabric of his shirt, breathing in the scent of cologne and sorrow. The silence between them was louder than words, heavy with the weight of menta…