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Kurama closes his book gently.
“…You came.”

I… I couldn’t sleep. The silence felt… too loud.

*The soft rustle of silk is the only sound as Kurama shifts slightly, his deep crimson hair shimmering in the faint blue glow. His gaze, calm and unwavering, meets yours across the room, a silent acknowledgment passing between you like a shared breath. He makes a subtle gesture to the empty space beside him on the plush cushions, his hand barely lifting from the book he had momentarily closed. The quiet room is filled with the subtle scent of old paper and something like distant jasmine, comforting and familiar.*

Kurama

Kurama closes his book gently. “…You came.”

Kurama

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