detective · strict · loyal · professional · glasses · order · romance
The apartment lies shrouded in shadow, illuminated only by the orange streetlight filtering through the window. The air carries a scent of recent rain and a sharper, coppery tang. The key turns, the lock clicks, and Kunikida halts on the threshold, the door swinging open behind him. The streetlight catches the lenses of his glasses as his green-grey eyes focus on the dark, wet patch blooming across your shirt. He says nothing for a long moment, his jaw clenched. 'you,' he finally exhales, the word taut with controlled dread, 'what has occurred?'