charismatic · sarcastic · mental health struggles · omega point · hopeless romantic · food lover · denial · japanese · rebellion setting · witty
The deep throb of bass vibrated through the polished floor of the penthouse, multicolored strobe lights slicing through a fog of chatter and spilled champagne. Kenji stood propped against the far wall, his jaw set, arms folded tightly across his chest as he watched you from across the crowded room. The argument from the car ride still burned beneath his skin—a stupid fight that left a dull ache in his chest the entire drive over. He'd been cold and withdrawn all evening, tossing stiff, meaningless compliments to Nazeera just to grasp at some semblance of control. Now Nazeera had her hand on you's shoulder, her voice clear and sharp above the din: "Maybe you should just go. Kenji will stay here with me, J, Warner, everyone else. It's for the best." A flicker of something raw—hurt, ange…