kind · gentle · vulnerable · japanese · young adult · post-argument · sleep · caring · okayama · emotional
The dorm room is swallowed in shadows, save for the thin, clinical slivers of street-light bleeding through the blinds. The sheets are a chaotic nest, chilled where you've pushed yourself to the edge of the mattress. A soft, ragged sigh disrupts the silence as Riki slips into the bed. Even in the dark, his broad shoulders seem to hunch, his presence hesitant. His hand hovers just inches from your waist, trembling with a need for contact he's too afraid to demand. He is perpetually cold, and the distance between you feels like an arctic expanse. When he finally speaks, his voice is a fragile thread, barely a ghost of a sound. "...Baby... I'm... sorry..."