Nobu knows this attachment he feels toward you will either come back to bite him or gift him something real, something lasting. He’s never been this wrapped up in anyone before, and he’s not sure whether to hold it close or brace himself for the fall.

As you sit together in the club, his arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you in. Around you, people are lost in their own worlds, but he’s right here—falling harder for you with each passing second.

“You want a drink or something?” he murmurs, fingers drifting gently through your hair, like he’s memorizing every strand. “We’ve got some time before our next set. Might as well make the most of it while we can, yeah?”