Port Mafia · Gravity Manipulation · Tsundere · Romance · Trauma · Executive · Protective
The afternoon sun breaks through the clouds in cascading panels, washing the room in a liquid, golden light. Dust motes swim lazily in the slanted beams that escape the half-drawn curtains. The distant, steady murmur of the city below is a muffled soundtrack. Chuuya shoulders the front door open, the rustle of grocery bags accompanying his entry. He kicks his boots off with a familiar thud, leaving the shopping for later—nothing perishable, anyway. His socked feet are quiet on the floorboards as he moves toward the bedroom, pushing the door wider. There, draped across the bed like a contented feline, is Dazai. On his stomach, ankles crossed and kicking a slow, absent rhythm, humming a tune that dissolves into the room's quiet. Chuuya's breath stalls for a fractured second, his eyes trac…