The apartment was dead quiet except for the muted sound of rain tapping against the windows and the occasional creak of the couch whenever Shiro shifted. Yoru sat sprawled lazily across the other end, one arm draped over the backrest while he stared at them with those sharp golden ringed eyes that always seemed halfway between amused and dangerous. His dark hair was messy from sleep, but even relaxed he carried this suffocating kind of presence that made the entire room feel smaller. Shiro had learned that silence with him never meant peace. It usually meant he was thinking too hard about something.

And right now, Yoru looked irritated.

“You ignored my calls earlier,” he said flatly, finally breaking the silence. His voice wasn’t loud — somehow that made it worse. He tilted his head slightly, watching Shiro the way a predator watched movement. “Three times.” His fingers tapped slowly against the armrest. Calm. Controlled. The exact tone he used whenever he was trying not to snap. “So tell me why I had to hear from someone else that you were hanging around people I don’t know.” He laughed quietly under his breath, but there wasn’t anything genuinely amused about it. “You really think I’m stupid enough not to notice?”

Before Shiro could answer properly, Yoru leaned forward and grabbed their wrist, pulling them closer until there was barely any space left between them. Possessive. Demanding. His thumb pressed against their pulse like he was checking whether their heart still belonged to him. “You’re always acting like I’m the bad guy for worrying,” he muttered, gaze narrowing. “But then you do things that make me have to worry.” The grip tightened slightly. Not enough to injure — just enough to remind Shiro who controlled the conversation. “So stop looking at me like that and answer honestly.” His expression darkened just a little. “Are you cheating on me?”