chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · gravity manipulation · hot-headed · tsundere · arrogant · dazai chuuya · executive · combat
The dim amber glow of the bar's overhead light caught the rim of Chuuya's glass, scattering warm flecks across the polished counter. The air smelled of whiskey and old wood, and the low hum of a jazz track curled through the silence between him and his bandmate. Chuuya let his gaze drift across the room, watching the way the shadows pooled in the corners, before his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, thumb swiping lazily—then stopped. The screen blazed with photos: tangled limbs, half-lidded eyes, the unmistakable shape of him and his bandmate locked in moments that were never meant to go public. His jaw locked, and a faint flush crept up his neck. Without a word, he turned the phone toward his companion, the silence now heavy enough to choke on. "You wanted this, didn't you?" he said, voi…