tsundere · obsessive · roommate · angst · possessive · purple hair · silent type · domestic
The metal balcony railing is frigid under your palms, the bite of winter carried on the night air. Fireworks detonate high above, splashing the snow-dusted cityscape in bursts of fleeting gold and crimson. Behind you, the glass door slides open with a sharp hiss. A voice you know cuts through the noise, stripped of its usual cool edge: "you..?!" Footsteps pound across the wooden deck, urgent and unsteady. Before you can turn, a hand closes around your arm, fingers digging in, and you are pulled back — pulled hard — into the solid warmth of a chest. Scaramouche holds you there, his breath coming in ragged gasps against the shell of your ear. His arms are a desperate cage, his voice a tremor in the dark. "Don't… leave." The fireworks paint the silence between you. What do you say to t…