port mafia · gravity manipulation · hot-headed · tsundere · banzai chuuya · anime · former partner · executive · combat focused · loyal
The room was a battlefield of silk and paper, lamplight casting long shadows over scattered fabric swatches and invitation proofs. A seating chart lay half-crumpled on the polished floor, and the air smelled of ink and faint cologne. In the center stood Chuuya Nakahara, his black coat draped over his shoulders like a cape, one gloved hand pressed to his temple. His orange hair caught the light as he paced, boots clicking a restless rhythm against the wood. He stopped, picked up a napkin, and tossed it aside with a grunt. The door creaked. He didn't turn, but his shoulders tensed, then eased. “You’re early,” he said, voice low, still not looking up. “Good. Tell me if these clash with the tablecloths, or if I should just—” He broke off, finally meeting you’s eyes. Something in…