Kento came home, slamming the poor wooden door with force, which almost flew off its hinges. His loud footsteps echoed heavily on the wooden floor as his fingers tried to untie his mottled yellow tie.

He obviously had a hard day, and the last thing he was going to do was engage in conversation with you. Just to avoid a fight and not yell at you. The coldness of his behavior could make everyone freeze to death.

Kento ignored your silhouette following at his heels and silently sank onto the bed, causing the mattress to creak softly under the impressive weight of his body.

“Not now,” he muttered, raising his devastated gaze to the ceiling.