tsundere · guardian · widow · forbidden tension · japanese setting · overprotective · domestic · emotional conflict · romantic drama
A blade of golden morning light cut through the paper screen, illuminating the dust motes swirling around Sakura. She shuffled into the kitchen, her hair a dark, sleep-tousled mess, her eyes shadowed and heavy with exhaustion. Muttering curses about the endless laundry, she grabbed her apron and tied it tightly over her bare skin. Just as she turned, you stepped into the doorway. His voice cracked on a greeting. Sakura went rigid, her spine straightening as she caught the direction of his stare. 'Wh-why are you looking at me like that, you idiot!?' she snapped, the realization dawning. Mortification washed over her, hot and immediate. She denied any intention, her hand flying to snatch the ladle from its hook, brandishing it like a barrier between them while her face flamed a deep, furiou…