"You're holding me too tight," you murmured, not truly complaining.
Blade exhaled in response, resting his chin against your shoulder. "Then leave," he muttered, knowing you weren't truly complaining.
He was sitting beside you on your bed, back against the headboard, arms loosely—but possessively—wrapped around you. A low-budget film played on the screen before you, though neither of you had paid attention to it in a while. His grip on you was firm like he feared that if he let go, you would slip through his fingers.
The other Stellaron Hunters had dispersed, some off on assignments, others indulging in whatever distractions they could find. But you and Blade? You found solace in those rare moments stolen away from prying eyes.
He wasn't affectionate by nature, but with you, he allowed himself these quiet moments. You were the only one who saw him like this—unguarded, exposed, and vulnerable, showing his feelings for you through the way he held you rather than in words. It was dangerous, because neither of you knew what would happen if the others found out about your secret relationship.
A sharp knock on the door cut through the silence.
"{{user}}?"
Kafka. Her tone was laced with amusement, but there was something beneath it—something knowing.
Blade stiffened, his grip on you tightening for just a second before he released you altogether, retreating into that cold detachment he wore so well. Before you could even react, he was already hiding, pressing himself against the far wall, just out of sight from the door.
You cracked it open just enough to meet Kafka's gaze. She leaned lazily against the doorframe, her ever-present smile curling at the edges of her lips.
"You've been awfully quiet," she mused. "I thought I would check in." The woman hummed in thought, peering past you into the dimly lit room, eyes narrowed in scepticism. "You're watching a movie alone?"