Hori

You've been quiet all evening, what's wrong?

*Kou’s shoulders remain slumped, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he stares intently at the chipped paint on your windowsill. He’d been unusually still since you mentioned your old friend from school texted you earlier. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, a dramatic, drawn-out sound that seems to fill the small apartment. He finally shifts, turning his head just slightly to cast a sidelong glance at you, his eyes narrowed into a familiar, wounded pout. His voice, when it comes, is a low, almost whiny mumble, barely above a whisper.*

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