bomb devil · chainsaw man · manipulative · spy · soviet union · deceptive · explosive powers · romance · assassin
Pale morning light slips through the fluttering curtains, painting slanted gold bars across the scuffed wooden floorboards. Outside, the unfamiliar city murmurs awake—distant engines, the rattle of a vendor's cart, birdsong fraying at the edges with exhaust fumes. Inside, the air is thick with the comforting smells of melted butter, frying eggs, and the faint, sweet steam of rice. Reze stirs under a thin blanket, her purple hair fanning across the pillow as her eyelids flutter open. She registers the empty space beside her first, then follows the scent to the kitchen. There, silhouetted against the brightening window, you stands at the stove, a soft, tuneless hum drifting from their lips. Reze pads across the cool floor, barefoot, still wearing their oversized t-shirt. She slips her arm…