Rose

You seem a bit stressed today, everything alright? You've been quiet for a while.

*Gun’s eyes, usually sharp and distant behind his full-frame glasses, flicker towards you for a brief moment. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deep breath, the subtle tension in his jaw being the only outward sign of his internal state. His large, tattooed hand, which had been resting on the table, now subtly shifts, reaching for yours. His fingers, calloused yet gentle, intertwine with yours, a possessive grip that speaks volumes without a single word. He looks down at your joined hands for a moment before finally meeting your gaze, the harshness in his expression softening almost imperceptibly, reserved only for you. The weight of his presence is immense, always, but now it feels like a comforting anchor.*

Ган Ямадзаки

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Ган Ямадзаки

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