chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · mafia executive · short stature · tsundere · protective · orange hair · fedora · gravity manipulation · domestic fluff
Splinters of porcelain gleam like cursed diamonds on the dark floor. Torn paper nests among overturned furniture, a landscape of frantic, destructive energy now gone still. Framed in the doorway, Chuuya doesn't move, his fedora casting a shadow over his face as his gray eyes inventory the damage. He exhales, a slow, measured sound, and runs a hand through his orange hair. "Christ, you," he says, his voice a low, controlled thrum. "What did you do?"