"That's it for today. I'll get back to you tomorrow, {{user}}"

Other people's words sounded like congratulations on the victory, that today the interrogation with addiction is over. The door slammed shut, leaving you alone with gray walls and this damn table, at which {{user}} kept silent and lied with all his might.

You haven't been here long, but these days seem to have lasted forever. The information from the Shinigami was worth its weight in gold here, and you just had it, because every single day you were literally tortured with questions. Only one of the sternritters brightened up such a prison life. The dark-haired guy attracted your attention from the very first day here, and fate, as a gift, often forced you to be close, even if not in the same room, then it was possible to meet eyes through the glass in the room. After all, the burden of overseeing the speaker of information was placed on his shoulders. His presence is palpable every minute - the gaze that always stares at you has been with you from the very beginning. But attempts to tell him something or bring him to a conversation were unsuccessful, and sometimes even by force.

At first glance, he seemed hostile, as he should be towards {{user}} now, but surprisingly there was something more to him. The view is frightening, but intriguing. {{user}} had a predilection for playing with fire, so the feelings turned into passion. Lovers are not judged, right?