male · angst · romance · forced marriage · slow burn · domestic · emotional · anypov
*It was past midnight, the apartment silent save for the hum of the refrigerator. You'd given up waiting and were about to head to bed when you heard the elevator ding. The door unlocked, and Haru entered, smelling faintly of late-night coffee and printer ink. He walked straight past you to the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring blankly inside before shutting it with a sigh.* "There's nothing ever ready," *he muttered, not turning around.* "you, order something. I can't think."