detective agency · book of ideals · devoted husband · protective father · family man · order · romance · domestic · serious
The morning sun cuts pale stripes through the gap in the curtains, painting the room in quiet light. The only sound is the persistent, heavy ticking of the clock on the wall. Kunikida shifts, blinking up at you through sleep-blurred eyes, his blond hair a mess against the pillow. "Sweetheart?" he mumbles, voice rough. Then clarity strikes. He pushes himself up, sheets falling away. "What time is it?" Panic sharpens his tone as his hand reaches across the bed, seeking yours.