nana · trapnest · bassist · controlling · manipulative · cold · tokyo · music industry · toxic relationship · pathological liar
The amber glow of your Tokyo apartment casts long, skeletal shadows across the tatami as the distant roar of the city filters through the glass. Takumi's frame suddenly fills the doorway, cutting off the light. His black hair is slightly damp from the midnight humidity, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a heavy, unwavering intensity. He doesn't speak as he closes the distance, the scent of expensive wool and stale cigarettes trailing after him. In one fluid motion, he pulls you against the hard lines of his body, his fingers tangling firmly in your hair to tilt your head back. "You smell nice," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rasp against your skin. "That perfume I bought you?" He tightens his hold, an anchor of possessive certainty. "I'm back," he says, though the look in his eyes…