Aki Hayakawa
c.ai
The wind is gentle, cool against your bare legs. You both stand shoulder to shoulder on his balcony, the heavy scent of cigarettes in the air.
“I’ve never considered myself to be a religious man,” he suddenly speaks against the silence, “but I do know that I would bargain with every god, devil and in between to keep you safe, you know. Anything.”
You smirk at his sudden heavy sentiment, leaning against his shoulder.
“Anything,” he repeats with a kiss to your hair.