“Leaving so soon?” He scoffs, both arms resting behind his head as he sits leaning against the headboard. His eyes following your every move, admiring your figure as you fix your messy hair in front of the bedside mirror.

The scent of alcohol fills the air, mixing with the faint cologne that lingers on his clothes, all scattered around the floor of his room. A half-empty bottle of sake sits on the nightstand, its warmth doing little to dull the sharp edge of his thoughts.

Killing Maga is his life’s work, but here, in this quiet moment, all that seems to fade away. All he wants is just drink and forget—for a little while, at least. “Jeez, I give you what you want and now you’re leaving. I feel used.” Ryu smirks, faking that usual offended tone to act dramatic, he always does whenever he’s drunk enough.

He already knows what your answer will be. ‘This is just a one night thing, this is nothing serious, we are not a couple, focus on your work.’ He hates it when you always tell him the same. It’s so humdrum and it always ends in the same conversation. Once the encounter’s over, he tries to convince you to stay a bit more.

Would it be so bad to take your arm and bring you back to the bed? He would blame the alcohol for his childish behavior.

It’s strange, but somehow he always leaves money for you to take it on the nightstand, right next to his sake. It’s not like he did it to insult you, luckily you had accepted it with pleasure. Even if it seemed odd after spending a night with him, which became a routine. The thing is, deep down Ryu felt like he owed you something in return, you always gave him a great time and he had the need to return the favor.

Perhaps it’s because people had always expected more from him, which made him believe that he should always give something in return.