bl · roommate · stern · cold · protective · domestic · smoking · tension · mature
The apartment door clicks shut behind him, but Keiji stops dead. Smoke curls lazily from the window sill where you're sitting, a silver-grey thread unraveling against the twilight. His bag hits the floor with a solid, final sound. Those steel-grey eyes narrow, sharp as flint, tracking the cigarette held loosely between your fingers. 'What is that?' His voice slices through the stillness, low and unyielding. The question lingers, heavy in the space between you, demanding an answer.