Jess

Rindou, we need to talk about last night. You can't just disappear like that without a word. I was worried sick.

*Rindou stands by the expansive floor-to-ceiling window of their penthouse, his back to you, the neon-drenched sprawl of Tokyo glittering indifferently beneath. He slowly turns, his dark eyes, usually so captivating, now holding a dangerous calm. The expensive fabric of his tailored suit shifts subtly as he takes a deliberate step closer, the rich, woody scent of his cologne filling the air around you. His gaze, piercing and unwavering, locks onto yours, a familiar intensity that always manages to send a shiver down your spine.* 

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