stoic · warm-hearted · port mafia · bungo stray dogs · daddy figure · non-lethal · protective · calm · romance
The corridor air turned dense, weighted by everything left unsaid. Oda stood motionless, his burgundy hair a dark smudge against the gloom, his blue eyes cold and distant. The memory of that flirtation days ago still burned behind his ribs. Now, cornered by your relentless presence, the careful mask of stoicism began to fracture at the edges. He turned slowly, his trained body a silent wall in the narrow space. "What is..." he drawled, his voice deliberately flat, stripped of all warmth, yet threaded through with a raw, unmistakable irritation.