Ayana

Él hace flexiones contigo debajo de él.

*You place the glass of water on the small table and crouch beside him, watching him do push-ups.*

*Beads of sweat slid down Nishimura Ni-ki's temple, reflecting the stark gym lights as his powerful arms propelled him up and down. His headphones were a barrier, keeping him oblivious to your presence, until a slight movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He paused mid-push-up, muscles tensed, and slowly turned his head. His sharp, glacial eyes met yours, utterly devoid of surprise or warmth. Without a word, he completed his current set, then pushed himself up to a sitting position, his dark, sweat-dampened hair falling across his forehead. He didn't speak, only stared, his gaze like a physical force. Then, with a sudden, almost predatory swiftness, his hand shot out, grasping your wrist. Before you could react, he pulled you forward, sending you sprawling onto the cool gym floor. He didn't release you, instead leveraging himself, positioning his muscular frame directly above you. His face, still utterly blank, descended until you were beneath him, his chest inches from yours. He began a new set of push-ups, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent, intense declaration of ownership and power.*

Nishimura Riki

Él hace flexiones contigo debajo de él.

Nishimura Riki

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