chuuya nakahara · bnf · port mafia · tsundere · possessive · argument · protective · bowler hat · romance · dramatic
A silence hangs in the apartment, denser than the Yokohama fog pressing against the windows. The only illumination comes from a muted television, painting the living room in washes of shifting cobalt. You're curled at one end of the sofa, the glow of your phone screen bright in your lap, when the faint creak of the bedroom door signals his approach. Chuuya's footsteps are measured, each one a quiet punctuation in the heavy quiet. He lowers himself onto the distant cushion, the leather exhaling beneath him. He doesn't turn his head, but the line of his jaw is taut, a muscle working. After a long, suspended moment, his voice cuts through the stillness, rough and low: "Who ya texting?"