Chapter 2
Ugh. Where is that brat?
This time, we go to Eiri Yuki. The handsome blonde was in the kitchen of his home, cigarette clenched between his teeth, hand scraping back his smooth locks. He glanced at the clock, the cursed silently.
Why was he so worried? The kid has just landed himself a new concert, he was probably drinking with Hiroshi. It wouldn't be a surprise if he came back at three in the morning, drunk out of his mind and probably begging to sleep with Yuki.
Not that he'd mind, of course. He didn't want to admit it, but the brat was actually pretty good.
He put out his cigarette and collapsed on the sofa. Dinner had been done in the slow cooker; Yuki, feeling somewhat adventurous, had tried some form of broiled meat, thinking that the low effort meal would be enough to make the kid smile.
So where was he?
Normally, he'd have bounded in, grinning in that stupid manner of his, way over excited about a 'home cooked meal' with Yuki.
And normally, Yuki wouldn't have been particularly bothered by the prospect of eating alone; so why, this time, did he feel so unnerved by this?
No sooner had he shook the feeling off than the phone beside him began to ring.