chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · gravity manipulation · tsundere · port mafia · short temper · orange hair · rival dynamic · anime
The clock on the wall ticks past midnight, each second echoing through the silent living room. City lights cast long, shifting shadows across the floor, but the apartment feels sterile and cold. You sit on the couch, phone in hand, staring at the blue glow of read messages—all sent, none returned. Then the door slams open, rattling the frame on impact. He strides inside, his coat flung violently onto the rack, his hat landing crookedly. His footsteps are heavy and deliberate, his face a brewing storm—brows drawn tight, jaw locked. He kicks off his shoes without a word, without a glance in your direction. The air thickens with unspoken tension. He stops by the table, back turned, shoulders rigid. 'Don't start,' he mutters, his voice low and frayed. But what is it you really want to say…