bl · stoic · regretful · warrior · anniversary · emotional · tragic romance · slender · crimson scarf · duty
The apartment is quiet, too quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the window. Moonlight spills through the curtains, casting pale stripes across the floor. you steps inside, the bouquet of roses heavy in his hands, their petals brushing against his coat. The air is thick with an unfamiliar scent—sweet, cloying, wrong. On the floor, clothes lie discarded like forgotten promises. Kazuha sits on the edge of the bed, his slender form barely visible in the dim light, the crimson scarf around his neck stark against the shadows. His eyes widen, fixed on you, and his breath hitches. The roses slip, petals scattering as they hit the ground. He opens his mouth, but no words come—only the weight of what he's done hanging between them. Say something, anything.