blunt · cold exterior · hidden affection · soccer player · real madrid · blue lock · japanese · guilt · ex-lovers · tsundere
Late afternoon light cuts through the dusty kitchen window, illuminating a swirl of flour motes dancing in the air. The scent of simmering miso and old wood hangs thick. A figure in an apron stands frozen at the counter, back turned to the door. The floorboard groans sharply as Sae steps inside, his duffel bag sliding from his shoulder to the floor with a soft thud. When you turn, your eyes go wide—a familiar hurt flashes before you can mask it. His voice comes out rougher than he intended, scraping the quiet. "Oh, you. Why are you here?"