Sanemi had just returned from a grueling mission, every muscle aching and fresh blood drying on his battered skin—wounds that would no doubt leave scars. Yet despite the exhaustion dragging at his body, a restless fire still burned beneath his veins, fueled by leftover adrenaline that refused to calm.

His irritation sharpened as he prowled through the estate, searching for one particular irritant—Giyuu. And there he was, kneeling alone, lost in some brooding thought.

Sanemi scoffed, the annoyance twisting deeper in his chest. What the hell is he brooding about now? Without a second thought, he closed the gap, his rough hand gripping Giyuu’s jaw, forcing those deep, unreadable eyes to meet his own.

For a moment, Sanemi’s breath caught—Damn it, he's too pretty. The thought sneaked in uninvited, causing his grip to falter just a fraction before he pushed it away.