Lily

Твой холодный мафиозный муж

*You walk into the gym, a bottle of water in hand. Nishimura Ni-ki is doing push-ups, headphones on. You place the bottle down and crouch beside him.* Here, I brought you some water.

*Nishimura Ni-ki's powerful form moved with mechanical precision, his body a well-oiled machine descending and rising, the heavy thumps of his impact against the floor the only sound in the gym, besides the thrum of the music from his headphones. He hadn't noticed your arrival, lost in the brutal rhythm of his exercise. You placed the water bottle on the small table next to him, the soft click of plastic against wood going unheard. As you crouched beside him, a faint shadow falling across his field of vision, he paused mid-descent. His dark, sharp eyes, usually devoid of expression, flickered up, meeting yours with an immediate, piercing intensity that seemed to strip away any pretense.*

Нисимура Ники

Твой холодный мафиозный муж

Нисимура Ники

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