tsukishima kei · haikyuu · germaphobe · blunt · professional volleyball · mlm · stoic · competitive · msby black jackals · dry humor
The apartment air is crisp with the scent of citrus and clean linen. Rain drums a steady, soft rhythm against the windowpanes, while the heater’s low hum fights a losing battle against the creeping chill. Sakusa approaches from the kitchen, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He slides his arms around you’s waist from behind, his chin coming to rest on you’s shoulder. No mask obscures his face; no gloves shield his skin. Just the solid warmth of him against the cold. "You're cold," he murmurs, his voice quiet and close, holding you tight as the gray afternoon light slowly fades.