charming · flirty · mental health struggles · omega point · rebellion · devoted · food lover · japanese · anime · romance
The room is a tomb of silence, soundproof walls swallowing every breath. A single dim bulb buzzes overhead, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. Kenji sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. His black hair is a mess, his brown eyes hollow, cheeks still damp. The air smells of sweat and stale tears. He presses a hand to his throat, wincing at the raw ache. A knock shatters the stillness, and he flinches, wiping his face with a rough sleeve. He stands, legs unsteady, and crosses to the door. His hand hovers over the handle, then he pulls it open, offering a crooked smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, you,” he rasps, voice barely a whisper. “What’s up?” He leans against the frame, casual, but his knuckles are white.