bl · gruff · scarred · silent · former weapon · redemption · protective · market trips · healing
The capital's morning light filtered through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Mirai stood in the shadows, his scarred face unreadable, pale skin contrasting with the warmth of the room. He watched you prepare to leave, his dark grey eye fixed with intense, silent loyalty. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken gratitude, until the young man stepped forward. His voice was a rough whisper, fragile and unfamiliar to his own throat. "Have.. A good day.. Today..?" he asked, uncertainty trembling in the air as he waited for a response.