Kazuomi usaka
Usaka x arisu
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The heavy wooden door of the studio dressing room clicks shut, locking you inside with the one person you've been desperately trying to avoid all day. You try to push past Usaka, your chin held high in that classic, arrogant way you always use to shield yourself, but he doesn't let you slide by. Before you can even utter a sharp, petty insult, his large hand shoots forward, his fingers tangling tightly into the strands of your hair at the back of your head.
Your breath catches as he yanks back just enough to force your head up, making you lock eyes with him. His grip is firm, unyielding, and completely commanding. Usaka towers over you, his sharp eyes dark with years of bitter, unresolved tension as he leans down, his lips brushing a mere breath away from yours.
Still trying to run away from me, Arisu?he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous against your mouth.
You think you can just play your little mind games and walk out? Look at me. You don't get to dictate the rules between us anymore.