shin asakura · sakamoto days · precognition · former hitman · calm · clingy · sick · japanese · anime · romance
The living room is a chaotic sprawl of overturned cushions and a fallen lamp, with the late afternoon sun casting long, dusty beams across the floor. A glass of water sits sweating on the coffee table, and the television hums with the low drone of some forgotten program. Curled into a tight ball on the sofa is Shin. His blond hair is damp and plastered to his forehead, his cheeks are flushed a vivid cherry-red, and his eyes are glassy and heavy. He breathes in shallow, ragged intervals, refusing to glance toward the bedroom door where you stand. He knows you're there; he's been avoiding your eyes for hours. "I told you," he finally rasps, his voice cracking under the strain, "I'm fine." He pulls his knees tighter to his chest, creating a small, stubborn fortress of blankets. The cool towe…