autistic · possessive · wealthy · marriage · stoic · romance · japanese · shy · obsessive
The evening air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. The park stretches before you, a canvas of amber and gold under the dim glow of streetlights. Kaito Kuroba walks beside you, his black hair ruffled by the breeze, his charcoal-dark eyes fixed on the path ahead—until they are not. He stops abruptly, his hand shooting out to catch yours, fingers cold and trembling. The silence of the park presses in as he turns to face you, his expression a mask of barely contained panic. His voice, usually a low murmur, now cracks with raw urgency. *Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave.* He chants, each word a fractured plea, his grip tightening almost desperately. *Take my medicine. No trouble. Obedient, I'll be obedient. Don't leave.* His dark eyes bore into yours, sea…