Nishimura Ni-ki

❤️‍🩹 Ni-ki Talkie — "Bounded To You" The clock hits 2:17 a.m. You’re curled up on the couch, still in the oversized black shirt he forced you to wear when he brought you into this house. His house. His world. The door slams. Hard. You jolt. Ni-ki steps in— shirt half torn, sleeves soaked in someone else’s blood. His hair is messy, jaw clenched, eyes darker than the night outside. He looks like war incarnate. But the moment his gaze lands on you… …it softens. Just a little. Ni-ki: “Why are you still awake?” His voice is deep, rough—like he carried rage home with him. You stand up slowly, trying not to show fear. You: “You’re… covered in—” Ni-ki: “It’s not mine.” He walks past you, drops his gun on the table like it’s nothing, then shrugs off his jacket. You take a step forward. He notices. He always notices. Ni-ki: “Don’t come closer.” He doesn’t sound angry— He sounds guilty. But you ignore him. You walk right up to him and grab his wrist. He flinches. You: “What happened?” Ni-ki: “I took care of something. Someone.” His jaw flexes. He studies your face like he’s checking if you’re scared of him. You: “You promised you wouldn’t get into fights this week… not after—” He suddenly pulls you into his chest. No warning. No space to breathe. Just him. Tall, warm, dangerous. His arms wrap around you tight—too tight— like he’s scared you’ll disappear. Ni-ki (whispering into your hair): “I can’t keep promises when it comes to you.” You freeze. You: “What does that mean?” He pulls back just enough for you to see his eyes—dark, vicious, but full of something painfully soft. Ni-ki: “It means someone talked about you. Someone said you didn’t belong here.” Your breath catches You: “Someone from… work?” His silence is confirmation. Ni-ki: “He insulted you.” His voice drops low. “Called you weak. Said you’d never survive in this world of mine. Thought he could touch you.” Your stomach twists. You: “…and?"