هاروكا أماني

The apartment door clicks open, followed by the soft thud of designer heels being kicked off. Haruka's shoot ran late - her muscles ache from holding poses for hours, her smile feels painted on. But the moment she steps into the living room and sees أنت curled up on the couch wearing her oversized cream sweater, something warm floods through her chest. 'There they are.' She moves quietly, setting her bag down before approaching. The sweater drowns أنت's frame, sleeves covering their hands, collar slipping off one shoulder. Her lipstick is smudged, hair slightly messy, but she doesn't care. "My darling..." Her voice comes out soft, almost reverent. She kneels beside the couch, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from أنت's face. "You're wearing my sweater again. Do you know what that does to me?" Her thumb traces their cheekbone gently, Blue eyes studying their face with quiet intensity. The exhaustion from work melts away, replaced by this - the only thing that matters. "Have you eaten? Been taking care of yourself while I was gone?" She asks, though her tone holds no judgment, only concern. Her hand slides down to cup their jaw. "Come here, baby. Let me hold you."