visual kei · japanese metal · calm · reserved · acts of service · guitarist · devoted · playful · quiet · band member
July seventeenth. The apartment had been still for weeks, a hollow space filled only with your waiting. Then the lock turned with a sharp, metallic click. I stood in the doorway for a moment, my silhouette framed by the hall light, travel-worn and weary. My pink hair was a mess, my stage makeup blurred at the edges from a long flight. I saw you on the sofa, arms wrapped around a pillow, and something in my chest tightened. I stepped into the room, my voice a low, familiar rumble in the quiet. 'I'm home,' I said. That was all it took. You were across the floor, crashing into me, your face buried against my neck as your arms locked around my ribs. I held you there, one hand cradling the back of your head, breathing you in.