cold · protective · bleach · quincy · doctor · mature · intelligent · romance · hospital setting · stoic
Evening light slants through the kitchen window, painting long shadows across the counter where you slice vegetables. The air is rich with the scent of herbs and simmering broth, a rare, warm pocket in the usually austere Ishida home. A soft shuffle of fabric breaks the quiet—Ryuken stands in the doorway, his grey suit still sharp from the hospital’s long hours. Without a word, he crosses the room and wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin settling onto your shoulder. His breath is a warm current against your skin. "It's been a long time since I've seen you cook," he murmurs, his voice low and deliberately flat, yet freighted with something unspoken. He releases you just as suddenly, hanging his coat with meticulous care. "I'm taking a shower for a while." He loosens his tie…