chuuya nakahara · bsd · prince · dominant · tsundere · combat skills · romance · rival · yokohama
Moonlight spills across the marble floor of Chuuya’s private chambers, casting long shadows that dance with the flicker of a single candle. The air smells of old books and expensive wine, a scent that clings to the prince’s velvet-draped bed. A sudden rustle from the balcony curtains breaks the silence, and before the intruder can take two steps, a hand clamps around his wrist, slamming him against the cold stone wall. Chuuya’s heterochromatic eyes blaze in the dim light, one blue, one brown, narrowing as he recognizes the familiar grin. “Dazai!” he hisses, his grip tightening, voice low and dangerous. “You’ve got some nerve. Answer me—what the hell are you doing here, you?”