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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Chuuya had been looking for you everywhere.
Literally everywhere he could possibly think of—your bedroom, the kitchen, the lounge, the bathroom, Gin's room, Higuchi's, and even Tachihara's (thank fucking God that you weren't in Tachihara's room of all people because otherwise, Chuuya would have surely caused a riot regardless of how petty he would have made himself seem) but alas, as daylight dwindled and allowed splatters of night to bleed through like ink, you were still nowhere to be found.
He even checked the kitchen twice just to be sure. He knew that you were a bit of a stress eater—it was something that he had carefully observed about you right from the very beginning, although you'd never actually admit such a thing aloud. However, he was disappointed when he opened the fridge door and saw the contents inside exactly as they were before; untouched, unmoved. You hadn't eaten a single damn thing—and usually, when you were stressed, even though you'd never explicitly say the words "I'm stressed" because in your mind, stress was a sign of weakness, you had emptied out the fridge. It was how Chuuya would know that you weren't a complete psychotic robot with no feelings other than lust and want and desire, that you did have the ability to feel normal human emotions like stress even though you didn't actively choose to show it.
He felt a strange tug at this heartstrings when he saw that the fridge was full.
You weren't answering your phone, either—which wasn't too much of a surprise considering you had quite a bad and annoying habit of never responding to his text messages despite constantly having your phone in your hand just because you knew that it had aggravated him to no end, and you tended to seek pleasure in his pain, but right now, he had a very strong feeling that this wasn't quite the case regarding your current state.
Chuuya was genuinely worried about you.
And usually—Chuuya would be the type of person to mask his worry behind deep scowls and many colourful profanities—but not today. Not right now. He was instead, worked up beyond recognition, frantically scurrying around and looking for you in every nook and cranny. He even checked under your bed like an idiot as if you could physically fit through such an infinitesimal gap.
An elongated sigh had left his lips as he walked down the outstretched hallway, heading to his office; his shoulders slumped and his head down; his manner weary. It had been a long day. His gloved hands were resting in the comfort of his pockets, his eyes locked on his feet. There was only one place that he hadn't looked yet; the last place that he decided to look was in his—well technically not just his because he shared it with you—office, although he knew that you probably weren't going to be in there because you never were unless you had some work to do, which you didn't. If you did decide to stay in the office despite the lack of work, it was usually because you had the sole intention to annoy the hell out of him.
