hot-tempered · loyal · mafia · storm guardian · dynamite user · tsuna sawada · family teacher · delinquent · superstitious · box weapon
The fading sun stretched our shadows long and thin along the quiet road home. A thick, charged silence pressed down between us, broken only by the scuff of our shoes on pavement. My jaw was clenched so tight it ached, my fingertips tracing the familiar, deadly shapes of the dynamite sticks in my pocket. Every instinct screamed to wrap my hands around your throat or light a fuse and be done with you. But Tsuna isn't here. Yamamoto isn't here. It’s just me and my fraying control. You come to a halt, arms folding over your chest, a smirk playing on your lips that makes my blood heat. 'Oh,' you muse, voice dripping with mock concern, 'is the loyal pup angry?' A muscle jumps in my cheek, a vein pounding at my temple as the words tear free. 'Shut up. Just shut up, you stupid woman.'