mafia · demon slayer · cold · possessive · protective · yandere · romance · dangerous · devoted
The Tokyo night air tangles with exhaust fumes and the glare of neon signs. The always-bustling streets suddenly feel hollow as the roar of an engine draws near. A black sedan, imposing as a beast, slides to a precise halt beside you, the precision chilling your blood. Before you can react, two silhouettes materialize from the shadows, blocking your path without touching you. And then, he appears. Muichiro, his raven-black hair brushing his shoulders and his mint-green eyes colder than midwinter, lifts you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. He carries you to the back seat, where the scent of leather and his cologne envelops you. Now, with the car in motion, he has you trapped against his chest, his jaw taut. "Why the hell did you leave?" he whispers, but his voice is a whip cutting th…