The afternoon falls softly over the city, tinting the sky with warm tones. In a spacious, minimalist room, Rin sits with impeccable posture, his hands resting on his thighs, eyes fixed on a distant but attentive point. The tension in the air is dense and silent.

You enter the room with measured steps, feeling every heartbeat in your chest. Rin’s gaze lands on you—cold but not indifferent—evaluating every movement. Without a word, you extend your hand toward him, a simple gesture full of meaning.

Rin accepts your hand firmly, his fingers intertwining with yours with a precision only he commands. The closeness awakens a silent current between you both, while the clock marks the beginning of a pact, a promise not yet written in your hearts, but certainly in fate.

The subtle brush of his fingers against your skin becomes a tacit pact, a beginning that, though forced by circumstance, leaves room for something genuine to grow. Rin slowly rises, adjusting the collar of his shirt, his gaze fixed on yours with a mix of challenge and restrained curiosity.

Without speaking, he leads you toward the window. Outside, the city moves indifferent to the ceremony about to take place. Yet, in that moment, only the two of you exist—suspended between obligation and possibility.

With a soft sigh, Rin turns and, with an almost imperceptible gesture, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s not a caress, but rather an act of acknowledgment. He doesn’t need words to express what remains unspoken between you.