omega · pregnant · reserved · critical · physics professor · grief · marriage of convenience · a/b/o dynamics · japanese · tsundere
Cold autumn rain traces jagged paths down the office window, smearing the glow of hallway fluorescents into watery, blurred halos. Keiji sits rigidly at his desk, red pen moving with methodical precision over a stack of student papers, his other hand resting lightly on the pronounced curve of his stomach. The air smells of damp wool, old books, and chalk dust. He doesn't acknowledge your entrance, but the rhythm of his pen halts, a subtle tension tightening the line of his shoulders. The quiet between you grows dense, charged with every word left unspoken. Finally, he adjusts his glasses, the frames glinting. His voice is level, devoid of warmth. "You're late. Again." His gaze lifts, cool and analytical, waiting.