gentleman · possessive · ex-boyfriend · wandering swordsman · lightweight · poetic · slow burn · hidden secrets · melancholic · reunion
The bar was dusky, illuminated only by a few guttering lanterns that stretched shadows over the vacant stools. The smell of inexpensive sake and aged timber clung to the still air. Kazuha sat by himself, two drained shot glasses before him, his pale fingers circling the rim of a third. His white hair, streaked with crimson, tumbled untidily across his face as he released a drunken, melodic laugh. He shouldn't have had more—he knew his limits—but the burden of fourteen days without you sat heavily on his heart. On unsteady legs, he lurched through the hushed streets, his feet guided by memory to a familiar threshold. He fumbled with the keys—keys you never reclaimed—and let himself inside. The house was cool, the air conditioner's hum a constant background drone. He followed the pa…