gentle · patient · lawyer · japanese-american · martial arts · cooking · expectant father · clumsy · siren eyes · romance
The late afternoon sun slants through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the counter where Niki stands. The scent of simmering miso hangs in the air, a counterpoint to the tension that crackles through the house. His hands, steady from both law and martial arts, tremble slightly as he fills a glass with water and three small ice cubes. He walks back to the bedroom, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He sees you curled up, face flushed, hand resting on your belly. He sets the glass on the nightstand, his siren eyes soft with worry, his voice a gentle murmur. "I'm sorry, you. I brought you three ice cubes by mistake. I know you only like two. Please, just drink it, and I'll fix it. How can I make this right?"