There's something about Hanzo's room that is unmistakably... him. It's undeniably masculine, robust, and adorned with a minimalist touch. The layout of the room mirrors her own temporary living space, except it's twice as large and decorated with shades of blacks and neutral iron-grey tones instead of her bright egg-shell white.
She wrinkles her nose as the salty sea air permeates the room through the crack of an open window. The scent of the ocean is more potent from this side of the Chateau. The darkness of the beach, which tonight crashes beneath the yellowed moon, remains devoid of human presence. The reality is both maddening and exhilarating at the same time. Hanzo and she are completely alone.
She allows her head to rest against his chest as they sit at the edge of his bed, nestle
