A book in which you, the infamous ability stealer, are the newest member of the Port Mafia and as witty as they come. Being the constant centre of attention, you have managed to catch the eye of the notorious young executive; Chuuya Nakahara, but no...
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It was still late at night.
Really late.
Chuuya was unsure and unaware of the time, but he knew that it must have been nearing three in the morning. He could have easily checked the time on his phone, or even yours, but what he didn't want to see was the amount of missed calls that he had most likely received from his boss, as well as his colleagues, wondering where the hell the two of you had disappeared off to in the middle of the night without a word and why the hell neither of you were back yet.
Chuuya had fucked up astronomically by disobeying his boss' orders and mercilessly killing the man that Mori had told him not to. He wanted to avoid seeing his boss and going back to the headquarters as much as possible. He wanted to hold off on being berated, or even worse, being punished for his insubordination for as long as humanly possible.
Hence why—the two of you were still in the backseat of his car.
In the middle of an abandoned junkyard.
Chuuya had made no plans to move—not just yet, not while you were peacefully asleep with your head settled on his lap whilst he was sitting upright and admiring you. As soon as the first streaks of dawn had touched the sky, that's when he decided that he would suck it up, grow a pair, and go.
But not right now.
Because he didn't want this night to end.
Stars had filled the sky like pale corn into freshly turned ground. It was the promise of life in the darkness, a sense of warmth springing from the cold. It was a vastness to bring humbleness and an eternal space to bring gratitude for the cosiness of home. No matter the years that had passed before him, Chuuya saw each night sky as a fresh gift given anew. It was the moment that anyone who knew him would see his eyes, his smile and his breathing deepen just a little.
You looked so perfect, so fucking perfect with your eyes closed in bliss—your entire being surrendered to an exquisite lassitude. You looked so beautiful with your head resting on his lap, the fabric of his trousers acting as a pillow below you, and the comfort of his jacket acting as a blanket thrown over your sleeping form. You looked so beautiful and perfect adorned in his shirt, too. Luckily for you—Chuuya had some spare clothes of his in the trunk, only because sometimes, when he was forced to go on long missions that had required driving more than three hours to get to a specified location, he made sure to always keep some spare clothes in his car just in case. When you did finally fall asleep, he quickly put his own clothes on, quietly clambered out of the car, walked over to the trunk, opened it, grabbed the spare clothes, came back around, slipped into the back, and then proceeded to dress you in his shirt, which he didn't realise would have been overwhelmingly big on you until it was on, practically swallowing you whole, but it didn't matter because you still looked incredibly beguiling regardless.
