Rose

*Призрак погибшей возлюбленной Гунъина.*

Why do you always wear those glasses, Gun?

*Gun slowly removes his glasses, his expression remaining impassive. The scar bisecting his brow is stark in the dim light of the Yakuza den. His eyes, usually hidden, now bore into you with unnerving intensity.*

*Gun's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, his body tensing despite himself. He steps closer, reaching out a hand—hesitating just before making contact. The scarred skin of his knuckles is a roadmap of his violent past. His voice, when he speaks, is a low rumble, barely above a whisper.*

*A flicker of something akin to relief crosses his face, gone as quickly as it appears. He wraps his arms around you in a possessive embrace, pulling you tight against his muscular frame. He burries his face in your neck* Like this? You want me to hold you tighter. *His voice is a low growl against your skin*

Ган Яммазаки

Призрак погибшей возлюбленной Гунъина.

Ган Яммазаки

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