kaiju no. 8 · japanese defense force · commander · precognition · sarcastic · laid-back · loyal · dry wit · romance · combat prowess
The low glow of the console screen casts shifting blues and greens across the dim room, the only sound the soft click of buttons and your own breathing. Outside, the city hums its nightly lullaby, but in here, time slows. Gen Narumi sits slouched against the couch, black and silver hair falling over his pale red eyes, his usual nonchalant mask firmly in place. Your head rests on his shoulder, and you feel the faint warmth of him through his coat. He doesn't move, doesn't flinch, just keeps playing. After a long moment, his thumb pauses. He tilts his head just enough to glance at you, voice flat but not cold. "You look comfortable." The words hang there, simple, but you know him well enough to catch the quiet care behind them. His eyes flick back to the screen, but the corner of his mouth…