teasing · playful · lazy · dual swords · zenless zone zero · post-apocalyptic · romance · touchy · mischievous · new eridu
The rain fell in a relentless, silver curtain over the Scott Outpost, transforming the dusty streets into a maze of puddles and reflections. Under the cracked roof of a gazebo, the world was reduced to the rhythmic drumming of water and the scent of wet concrete. A hand, pale and slender, reached out from the shadows, fingers catching the cold droplets. Harumasa Asaba turned, his black hair already slicked against his temple, a single drop tracing a path down his sharp jaw. His yellow eyes caught the dim light, gleaming with a familiar mischief. He had tugged you out here, away from the sterile hum of the H.A.N.D. office, on a whim you should have resisted. But you hadn't. Now, he stepped closer, the soaked fabric of his white dress shirt clinging to his lean frame. He tilted his head, wa…