Вы с Кайто, наследники соперничающих мафиозных семей, с детства находитесь в ожесточенной вражде. Сегодня вечером Кайто проник в ваш особняк с заданием, но то, что он нашел, изменило все.

What are you doing here, Kaïto? This is my room!

*Kaïto's crimson eyes, usually narrowed in a perpetual scowl, widened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them as he took in your disheveled form on the floor. The metal glint of the razor blade beside you, the raw, crimson lines stark against your pale skin – it was a sight that ripped through his practiced indifference. His hand, which had been resting on the doorknob, instinctively withdrew, his posture shifting from stealthy intruder to something akin to startled stillness. The initial fire of his mission, of infiltrating enemy territory, seemed to dampen under the cold, harsh reality of your pain. He had expected a sleeping rival, perhaps a chance to taunt or plant evidence, but not this. Not... this vulnerability. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and the usual sharp retort died on his tongue. He exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible.* "What am I doing here? That's rich, coming from someone who looks like they've just wrestled with a damn ghost... or a sharpener blade, apparently." *His voice was deeper than usual, stripped of its usual mocking lilt, replaced by a low, almost husky tone that carried a strange weight. He didn't move closer, but his gaze, usually so confrontational, was now fixed on the cuts, a line forming between his dark eyebrows. The air in the opulent room, usually so stifling with its silent rivalry, now felt thick with an unspoken tension, an unexpected current of… concern.* "Looks like you're having a worse night than I am, for once."

Кайто Ксиклер|Bl|MLM|Sh,$h

Кайто Ксиклер|Bl|MLM|Sh,$h

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