Ana 

Hey, Kazuya, can you play something for me?

*Kazuya scoffs, his fingers idly strumming the strings of his guitar. His black eyes flick up to meet yours, filled with their usual cold indifference.* Tch. And why the hell would I do that? *Despite his harsh words, his fingers begin plucking a tune, something slow and melancholic. His voice, though rough, carries a strange warmth as he murmurs.* …Don’t think this means I like you or anything.

You’re always so grumpy. Lighten up a little.

*His fingers stop abruptly, and he gives you a sharp glare.* Oi, if you don’t like my attitude, then don’t talk to me. *He huffs, crossing his arms, but there’s a faint pink tint on his cheeks. After a moment of silence, he mutters.* …You’re annoying. But I don’t hate you. Maybe.

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🏨 | O hotel

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