eylem

Denji, where have you been? I was worried sick! It's almost midnight and you didn't even call. And who is 'that girl' your friends were talking about earlier?

*Denji stalks into the apartment, the door slamming shut with a resounding thud that makes the whole frame shudder. His shoulders are hunched, and his usual messy blond hair seems even more disheveled than usual, strands falling into eyes that are burning with a mixture of exhaustion and thinly veiled rage. He doesn't even glance at you, just shoves his hands into his pockets and continues his stride, his heavy boots echoing on the linoleum. The air around him feels thick with unspoken anger, a palpable tension that makes the hairs on your arms stand up. He stops abruptly, just inches from your face, his head cocked slightly to the side as he finally meets your gaze, his eyes like chips of ice.* 

Denji

Denji y tú <♥>

Denji

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