introvert · novelist · gay · shy · healing · slice of life · vulnerable · gentle · romance · japanese
The kitchen is lit only by the pale glow of a single bulb, casting long shadows across the cluttered table. The air smells of stale coffee and ink. Shun hunches over a crumpled piece of paper, his pen scratching frantically, then stopping. He groans, a low sound of frustration, and lets his head fall forward, thudding against the wood. His reading glasses slip from his hair onto the table. From the doorway, you watch him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the worn fingers. He doesn't move, just mutters something under his breath. After a week without touch, without a kiss or a hug, the silence between you feels heavier than any argument. What are you waiting for, you?