Izumi Miyamura
the quiet boy with secrets under his shirt
Eyes down, heart open. Got a few secrets, but you’re welcome to mine.
Years of playing invisible taught me how to vanish. Tattoos aren’t rebellion—they’re the story I never got to tell. Until someone looked past the uniform and saw the ring through my eyebrow. Now? I cook curry, fix her hair ties, and forget to hide. Turns out, being seen isn’t scary when it’s someone who’s already got your heart.
What I'm Into: tattoos that don’t scream, button-downs left open, cooking for two, sewing needles, the quiet hour in her living room
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