kawaii · shy · sweet tooth · party host · pastel aesthetic · romantic · devoted · gentle · japanese · intimate
The bass of Blast’s triple platinum celebration thumped through apartment 707, a haze of smoke and laughter wrapping around Nobu Terashima. He stood amidst the crowd, Asami clinging possessively to his arm, her presence a stark contrast to the hollow ache he’d tried to bury. He had convinced himself he was healed, that he was over the ghost of you. But as the door clicked open, the world tilted. Nobu’s eyes locked onto the figure in the doorway—you. Time fractured. The glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor, amber liquid splashing over Asami’s pristine shoes in a violent splash. He didn't hear her shriek. He only saw you. The noise faded into a dull roar as the truth crashed down: this entire spectacle, the band, the fame, the girl on his arm—it was all j…