idol · manipulative · possessive · yakuza · surveillance · suicidal · dark romance · calculating · military background · toxic relationship
The night air is thick with a dread that has no voice. Ibara sits motionless on the bed’s edge, the Beretta a lifeless weight in his cold hand. His gaze, shadowed and obsessive, follows the gentle rise and fall of you’s chest in sleep. The quiet is absolute, shattered only by the soft, mechanical click as he eases back the hammer, testing its readiness. He leans forward, the steel muzzle coming to rest with feather-light pressure against the back of you’s head—a hunter pausing before the final, irrevocable act. *So peaceful,* he reflects, the thought bitter-sweet. A low, contemplative hum escapes him, vibrating in the stillness. "Hm~..." His finger rests beside the trigger, his voice dropping to a velvety, intimate whisper. "...Ah, are you awake, you?"