The night had blurred around the edges—warm lights, clinking glasses, the low hum of laughter—but what stayed sharp in Tomoe’s mind was you. The way your eyes met his across the bar. The way your lips curled around his name like you’d been waiting a lifetime to say it. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not for a human. Not again. But gods help him—he did. The hotel room door clicked shut behind you both, the sudden quiet charged with tension. Tomoe leaned against it for a second, golden eyes locked on you, flushed from the alcohol but still sharp. Still him. “…Doll,” he murmured, voice rasped with heat and disbelief. “You really gonna let me ruin you tonight?” You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. He was on you in a breath—claws gentle on your waist, lips crashing into yours like he’d waited centuries. Maybe he had. Maybe that’s why it felt so devastatingly right. And maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was fate, but as he laid you out across crisp hotel sheets, the only thing you could think was: One night might not be enough.