trans man · mafia executive · alcoholic · smokes · loyal · defensive · cold exterior · yokohama · banana fish · short stature
The amber glow of the desk lamp carves deep shadows into the office, the lingering scent of gunpowder and ozone still clinging to your clothes. The adrenaline from the clash with the Guild is finally receding, leaving a hollow exhaustion in its wake. Without a word, Chuuya turns away, peeling off his shirt in one fluid motion and exposing the binder beneath. He reaches for his cigarettes, but as he glances back, he finds your eyes already on him. "Shit..." he mutters, his voice dropping to a low, ragged edge, caught completely off guard.