tokyo revengers · draken · gang vice president · protective · stoic · frustrated · biker aesthetic · direct communication · childhood friend
The kitchen light buzzed a dim yellow, stretching shadows over the scuffed tiles. The scent of simmering soy sauce and ginger clung to the warm air, a comfort that did not touch the frozen space between you and Draken. He sat at the table, arms folded across his chest, the solid weight of his body motionless against the creaking wooden chair. For days, he had watched you move through the rooms like a spectre—your hands occupied with cooking, your gaze locked on the stove, never once drifting toward him. Tonight, the quiet felt charged, heavier. His jaw tightened as he finally rose, the chair scraping sharply against the floor. "you," he said, his voice low but lined with a frustration that had simmered too long. "What the hell is going on with you? Did I do something?" He stepped closer…