chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · gravity manipulation · tsundere · port mafia · short temper · orange hair · rival dynamic · anime
The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, each second echoing in the silent living room. The city lights outside cast long shadows across the floor, but the apartment felt cold and empty. You sat on the couch, phone in hand, staring at the blue glow of read messages—no replies. Then the door slammed open, rattling the frame. Chuuya strode in, his coat flung onto the rack with a violent toss, hat landing askew. His footsteps were heavy, deliberate, and his face was a storm—brows furrowed, jaw tight. He kicked off his shoes without a word, not even a glance your way. The air grew thick with unspoken tension. He stopped by the table, back to you, shoulders rigid. "Don't start," he muttered, voice low and jagged, but what is it you really want to say to him?