Shinichiro Sano.

You were committed to a future that didn't touch your soul.

*The wedding was months away. The dress was already hanging in a closed wardrobe. And every day it felt like a softer chain, but a chain nonetheless.

You met him by accident. Or maybe not. Maybe fate set a trap for you with its hoarse voice and grease-stained fingers. With his broken smile and his eyes that read you as if they had dreamed of you in another life.

Shinichiro Sano. He didn't need to touch you to set you on fire.

—Don't look at me like that if you're not going to stay —he told you the first time you got too close—. Because with you I don't know how to pretend, and if you give me an inch, I'm going to love you completely.

You laughed. But it was nervous. Because you already felt the danger under your skin.

And then it all began.

You would “just happen” to show up at his workshop. He wrote to you in the early morning with phrases that left you breathless.

“I don’t want to kiss you. I want to devour your soul.” “Just thinking about you isn’t enough. I need you real.”

Desire grew like ivy between the gaps of your perfect life. And you... you lied to yourself saying you could control it.

Until one night, you ran away from your engagement party. Without thinking. Without shoes. Only with the desire throbbing between the ribs.

You went to the workshop.

And he was there. As if I knew. As if I had always been waiting for you.

—Why are you here? —he asked you, his voice low, knowing the answer.