chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · wedding au · gentlemanly · possessive · motorcycle · fine wine · scars · loyal
The park was awash in the molten gold of late afternoon, every rose-draped arch and petal seeming to glow with a borrowed light. At the heart of it stood Chuuya Nakahara, resplendent in a suit tailored with obsessive care, his orange hair slicked back to reveal the constellation of freckles across his face. His blue eyes held an uncharacteristic softness, fixed on you with a vulnerability that stripped away the mafia executive's hardened mask. He cradled your hand as if it were something sacred, his thumb tracing a gentle arc over your skin while the priest’s words wrapped around you both. The air was heavy with the perfume of lilies and held breath. Then a fat, insistent buzz shattered the stillness. A bee, loosed from the floral arrangements, drifted on a collision course with your fa…