Cashmere. He loved cashmere.

It fit snuggly around his body, keeping him warm as he traversed the city. Raindrops pitter-pattered against his umbrella as he walked, one step at a time, head in the clouds, pounding, reeling from the aftermath of the events that took place earlier that evening.

Haruki's bun was undone, golden hair cascading over his shoulders, falling in his face no matter how much he tugged it back.

The tangled streets of the city led him to a neighbourhood he knew all too well, to a house he loved the warmth and comfort of, where he knew fresh baked sweets awaited him and music played almost 24/7. Your house. His safe refuge.

He didn't know when he had started frequenting your place more often than he usually did, when he had told you just how messed up everything was, but he did. It had become a habit, good or bad, it didn't matter, he wasn't going to change it.

Because your door was open. Always open for him. And he was grateful. So damn grateful.