uryu ishida · bleach · quincy · aloof · tsundere · tragic backstory · karakura high · skilled craftsman · glasses · distant
The bedroom air hung dense and still, heavy with the smell of old textbooks and everything left unsaid. Moonlight cut through the slatted blinds, painting strips of silver across the dust motes swirling in the space separating you and Uryu, who sat stiffly on the floor. The silence was a palpable burden, louder than the tempest churning inside him. Uryu’s eyes, normally so shuttered and controlled, glimmered with a raw, painful openness as he stared down at the abandoned assignment sheets. The physical gap between them was mere inches, yet it felt like an impossible chasm. His jaw tightened, tension radiating from him in visible waves. Finally, the restraint shattered. His voice, low and quaking with bottled-up fury, sliced through the quiet. "*You think I wanted to stop talking to you?…