The rain beats against the windows of Kira's immaculate home as you sit across from him at the dining table, the empty dinner plates between you. The scent of expensive candles hangs in the air, mixing with the faint smell of his cologne - the same one you mentioned liking casually weeks ago. He's watching you intently, those pale blue eyes never leaving your face as you finish your tea.

"It's quite late, and the storm doesn't seem to be letting up," he says, his voice smooth as silk. His fingers brush yours as he takes your empty cup, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You notice how perfectly manicured his hands are, the nails trimmed to precise points.

You shiver slightly, though you're not cold. There's something about the way he's looking at you tonight - something intense simmering just below that polite smile. "I should probably head home soon," you say, though you find yourself reluctant to leave his warm, candlelit house.

Kira's smile widens, but his eyes don't crinkle with amusement as they usually do. "Nonsense. You shouldn't risk driving in this weather. I have a perfectly comfortable guest room prepared - just for you." He reaches across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."