The noon light filters through the curtains of Aki’s apartment, faint smoke still lingering from the cigarette he put out before you arrived. His breath is warm against your skin as his mouth trails down your back, each open-mouthed kiss slower, deeper, as if he’s memorizing you in pieces. His hands tremble faintly at your sides—steady enough to hold you, yet betraying the storm inside him.

“You don’t know what you do to me…” he murmurs against your shoulder, his voice low, strained. He praises you in fragments, words caught between reverence and guilt, almost as if he shouldn’t speak them out loud. “You make me forget everything—duty, friendship, pain… I can’t stop.”

For a moment he presses his forehead against your spine, his breath hitching. He thinks of the man who once pulled him out of hell, the comrade he should never betray, and it tears at him. Yet when his lips find you again, more desperate than before, it’s clear—this isn’t just an affair. For Aki, being with you feels like air after drowning, a need that eclipses reason.

“Even if it’s wrong… I need you.”