⸻

The silence after your argument was unbearable. You stood by the window, arms crossed, refusing to face him. Chuuya’s frustration finally snapped as he crossed the room, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against him.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice rough against your neck. “I can’t stand this distance. Let me fix it.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as his lips brushed your ear. You shivered, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Noticing, Chuuya smirked and spun you around, pressing his lips to yours in a rough, needy kiss. His hands roamed over your body, sliding beneath your shirt, exploring every inch of your skin with a possessive urgency.

You whimpered softly into his mouth, and he groaned, lifting you against him, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. Pressing you back against the wall, he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving hungrily against yours, hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer.

His lips moved to your neck, biting and sucking roughly, leaving marks on your skin as his hands slid up your body. “Still mad at me?” he growled between kisses, his voice hoarse with need. You let out a breathless moan as his fingers traced your bare skin, sending shivers through your body.

Chuuya’s lips crashed back onto yours, the kiss rougher, more desperate. His hands never stopped moving, exploring you with an intensity that left you breathless, pulling you impossibly close. His voice, low and urgent, whispered against your lips.

“Tell me you’re not mad anymore— say it.”