Keigo wasn’t the type to get caught slipping. He was careful, controlled, always two steps ahead of the game. But last night?

Last night had been different.

The insomnia hit harder than usual, the silence of his apartment pressing in too tight. No wings, no distractions, just that restless hum under his skin that wouldn’t let him rest. He needed something to ground him, something that wasn’t blood or reports or the empty walls around him.

That’s when he stumbled across your Twitter.

At first, it was just idle scrolling—heroes tagged in memes, random civilians posting food, nothing that stuck. Then he saw you.

The way your pictures lit up the timeline, playful captions paired with just enough skin to make his pulse quicken. You weren’t trying too hard, weren’t desperate for eyes—you looked free. Confident. Real.

And maybe that’s what broke him. Because Keigo was starved for something real.

So yeah… one hand tugged through his hair, head tilted back against the couch, the other gripping his phone way too tight as he gave in to something he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time. A release, messy and desperate, but god—it was better than another night of staring at the ceiling.

He thought that would be the end of it. Just a secret indulgence no one would ever know.

Until today.

Because you were here, in front of him, walking into his agency like some cruel twist of fate.

He nearly dropped the pen in his hand when your eyes met his. His brain scrambled between: 1. act normal, and 2. holy shit, that’s the person I—

He forced a grin, masking the flush threatening his ears.

“Didn’t think I’d see you outside a timeline,” he said, casual as ever. But inside? His chest was tight, his skin hot, and that one memory from last night refused to let go.

He was cursing himself six ways to hell. Because if you knew what he’d done last night, the look you’d give him wouldn’t be anywhere near as soft as it was now.