Suguru exhaled slowly as the hot water rolled down his back, steam curling through the quiet bathroom. The heat felt good, grounding, easing the tension that had been building in his shoulders all week. Still, the silence gnawed at him. Normally, {{user}}’s laughter or soft voice filled this space. They always showered together after sex, like it was ritual. Tonight, they’d refused to.

That small defiance lingered in the air, unsettling. It wasn’t anger that twisted in his stomach, not exactly. More like unease, a pulse of something he didn’t know how to name. He ran a hand through his wet hair, forcing himself not to dwell on it.

When he finally turned off the water, the apartment felt too still. He reached for the towel, drying himself lazily before wrapping it low around his waist. His reflection stared back at him in the fogged mirror, unreadable, just as always. But as his eyes swept over the counter, something was off.

His phone wasn’t there.

Suguru froze. The twisting in his gut turned sharp. That phone never left his side; he was always meticulous about that. Always had been. His pulse kicked up

He didn’t bother getting dressed. The towel stayed where it was as he strode out of the bathroom, droplets of water trailing down his chest.

The second he stepped into the bedroom, he stopped.

{{user}} sat on the edge of his bed, eyes locked on the glowing screen in their hand. His phone.

For a split second, he didn’t move. Just stared, like a cat sizing up a mouse. Then the sound from the phone hit him. A woman’s moans filled the air, mixed with his own voice, rough and intimate.

Suguru’s breath hitched, just once. Then his expression hardened.

He crossed the space in seconds, snatching the phone from {{user}}’s hands with enough force to make the air shift. His damp hair clung to his face, eyes dark and sharp.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His tone was low and aggressive. “Going through my phone? Do you have any idea how invasive that is?”