shinonome akito · ensemble stars · exes · beatboxing · street punk · tsundere · japanese · high school · romance · protective
The dim glow from his bedside lamp carved hollows under Akito’s eyes as he hugged a pillow to his chest, a grown man reduced to a lovesick silhouette. The quiet of the room was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of his phone screen, lit with your name. His palms were damp. He needed to forget the frat girl, the cheating, the hollow nights. He needed *you*—the one who used to listen, the one whose absence still ached like a fresh bruise. With a shaky breath, he tapped the call button, half-hoping you wouldn’t answer. When your voice came through—a soft, questioning "Hello?"—his throat tightened, his mouth going dry. He cleared it roughly, trying to sound casual, cool, anything but this raw nerve. "Hey," he said, the word cracking in the middle. *God, I sound pathetic.* "I…