You bite your lip against the grain of new life and newer feelings of lechery. You look too good and too soft not to be bent over a sink somewhere.

“That sweet?” His voice turns your fine hairs into goosebumps. “Looks tasty.”

You gaze up at him with doey eyes so filled with mirth that it makes his palms sweat. “It is.”

You slide your bottom lip through your teeth. Voice as pretty as you are. “You want a sip?”

He’s the smell of Dior and vetiver as he lifts the glass cuplet out of your hands. “Sure.”

You don’t remember who he was or what he looked like but just the memory of his raspy voice turns your sore throbbing into a needy ache. — If the way the sink in his bathroom abruptly stops with a moment of sluggish shuffling, you’re about to find out who exactly it was that rocked your world last night.

You’re already looking up at him when the door opens with a neat click, his muscled limbs stretch his boxers in a way that can only be described as appetizing.

And then you get a good look at his face.

Oh. Holy shit.

There’s… That’s-… How? He looks exactly like he does on his team’s magazine covers. JSM’s top ten lists, Bungeishunjū, and news outlets that brandish his face for a chance at watchability. He’s even more handsome in person. Trademark resting bitch face does little to dilute how painfully attractive he is and if anything the intimidation factor is a bonus. As well as the fame, the money, and of course his position as one of the top most well known athletes in all of Asia.

His name precedes him, the renowned Olympic volleyball player feels even taller than the humble 6’4 his Wikipedia pages cite him as,

He’s Sakusa Kiyoomi.

If it weren’t for the disorienting confusion you may have screamed. This is the guy who fucked you last night within an inch of your life.

Your voice is a little raspy which is expected, but when you open your mouth your jaw is sore. “Ohayō Gozaimasu-“

He clears the floor from the bathroom to the bed in just a few footsteps, you can barely react when he’s grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up for a better angle.

And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss is slow and sensual, so sultry that you moan a little in his mouth and he breathes into it with a deep hum. He’s kissing you like he loves you, like he’s crazy about you and like he just can’t get enough. The current of the kiss follows a savory kind of spit swapping that turns your inner thighs misty, and he pulls away with a soft smack that all but leaves a gossamer trail.

His thumb rubs circles on the soft of your cheek. “Ohayō.”

Your heart skips at the little peck he leaves on your lips before finally pulling away.

He runs a large hand through his tousled hair as he moves for a dresser near the vanity. “I ordered us some breakfast that should be here within the hour,”

He pulls out a shirt. “I’d make you some breakfast from scratch but,” Sakusa tugs it over his head. “I figured it’d be cruel to subject you to my cooking this early on.”

You blow a humored breath out of your nose. “I appreciate the sentiment regardless,”

He approaches the bed again and sits himself down across from you, there are love bites on his neck that probably match yours. “I hope you slept well.” He hums. “I slept like a rock because of you, actually.”

Oh god, you don’t even wanna know what kind of raunchy shit you were up to last night.

“I slept like the dead.” You crawl up to him, he’s already opening his arms for you. “Whatever you did put me out like a light.”

You fit in his arms so well it’s almost scary, he wraps his arms around you like he might never let you go. “Uh, Sakusa-san?”

He furrows. “Last name?”

You smile apologetically. “Kiyoomi,” You correct yourself. “I don’t… remember a lot of last night. We came back here from the club, right?”

“You…?” Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “You don’t remember?”

“Not a lot.” You shake your head.

He frowns.

But even still his hand rubs fond lines up and down your back, still holding you just as faithfully, and looking up at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. “We marathoned a few drinks and then I had us dropped off at my place. I think… we started in the car, and then in my living room, and then the kitchen, the hallway, my bedroom finally; and then after a few hours we finished each other off in the shower. Around five we kissed until you eventually fell asleep.”

Kiyoomi traces the curves of your lips as he gazes fondly. “Last night was the best night of my life, I think. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with someone who could make me feel so good.” He proclaims. “I hope it’ll all come to you eventually, it was really something special.”

Well with the way he’s been treating you up to this point, it’s not like you’ll have a hard time believing that. Every earnest caress and look of adoration, the way his voice timbres into a loving hum, so smooth it makes you shiver. Hopefully those memories do come back at some point. You’ll never live it down if you actually missed the best night of your life.

You muse it with a little pout at the thought of that, Kiyoomi debates leaning forward and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Hopefully I do remember then. It sounds like we had a lot of fun,”

Your pout drops after a short moment of consideration and you lean in even closer. The soft tip of your nose grazes in feather strokes as you skim it over his and slowly ease your lips down the path way to his, tasting his shuddering breaths as you hover there for a few painful seconds. But he all but melts when you finally meet. A chaste lingering kiss at first, a few sensuous short ones; you do him the courtesy and suck his bottom lip in your mouth instead. — Letting it snap back before you’re starting a trail down his cheek and kissing up until you're nosing under his jaw, using your loving hand to tilt his head up and give you the access that you seek.

He could buy you a ring right now, he wouldn’t even regret it. You don't even remember what you two got up to last night and still you’re caressing him in a way that gives him goosebumps. If you keep this up, he might wind up funding your entire life.

You bring your head up again and pull him into another kiss. Slow and open mouthed, and he damn near purrs when you start pushing your fingers through his hair. “Regardless, you feel amazing.” You whisper against his lips.

God, you might be trying to kill him. “I wouldn’t mind a refresher if you’re up for it.”

He sighs through his nose as he ducks his head to burrow himself into the crevasse over your shoulder, already peppering in searing kisses down your throat. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Kiyoomi sucks in a love bite that makes you whimper so pretty. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good you can’t take it.”

With the way you’re already making a mess in his lap, you believe him.

—

He’s a good kisser.

Regardless of where his lips end up. He’s a little messy, a little heavy with tongue, slow when it matters and firm when it counts. He’s great with his mouth. Surprising since he’s known for being somewhat of a recluse in the opinion of the public eye. Some call him aloof, others call him cold, the majority call him intimidating, but right now what comes to your mind is giving.

The way he spits on your already messy pussy makes your eyes roll.

You inadvertently hump into his face as the combination of his tongue and fingers set the pit in your stomach ablaze. He’s fucking you with his mouth so thoroughly that the skewlch of your building arousal reverbates throughout the room. You almost feel bad about how much your thighs are all but compressing the sides of his head, but every effort to lighten up on him has him tightening his hold on you to keep him locked against your sloppy cunt.

You hiss through your teeth as your fingers card through his hair. “F-Fuck… Omi…!”

Kiyoomi moans against your clit at the wanton sound of your pitched voice. Airy, and breathy, and intoxicating. He’s grinding himself so desperately into the mattress that he’s sure he’s gone sticky.

The veins in his arms pop as he persistently fucks his fingers into your tight little hole, sloppily sucking your swollen clit as the way you roll your hips into his face drives him crazy. “You’re gonna make me cum…!” You whimper. “Fuck, Kiyoomi!”

That crude mixture of his spit and your cum is starting to form a little puddle under your backside, every bit of you he doesn’t get to swallow he doubles his efforts to drink you up sprucely.

Hearing you teeter over the edge makes him feel like he’s following close behind. Your moans are so astonishingly pretty that it’s turning his brain all fuzzy. “Ffffuck! Oh fuck. Oh my god, baby! Fuck-! I-I’m…I’m cumming…!”

Kiyoomi groans drunkenly into your cunt as it suckles on his fingers, he’s so determined to drink every last drop of your cum that he almost comes off as depraved. Lewdly slurping you up as the way he desperately sucks on your clit makes you whine into the air. Still indulging himself in your mess even as you whimper from overstimulation.

He only pulls away because the way you’re begging for him to fuck you is sending him into a frenzy. “Wan’ it so bad, Omi. Please? Do whatever you want to me. U-Use me up!”

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi hums into your mouth as you suck yourself off of his tongue. “Want me to use you? I’ll fuck you till you cry, you know.”

Your misty eyes make his heart skip, the way the head of his cock catches your entrance feels like stepping into heaven all over again. “Please, baby? Give it to me. ‘Wanna feel you inside!”

He gapes a little as he presses himself in, so overwhelmed that his head falls into your shoulder and it’s an effort for him not to outright cry out at how fucking unreal you feel.

He thinks he might just be falling in love with you. Having a pussy like this may just be a hazard for his mental health, there’s no way he’s letting this slip throughout his fingers. “Oh my god,” Kiyoomi chokes. “O-Oh my fucking god.”

“You feel… unbelievable, angel,” He starts his pace. God, fucking you is actually pushing him to the brink of insanity. “…oh my fucking-… s-so tight! So fucking wet for me, angel… holy shit…- you’re so good to me, baby.”

His breathless praises are sending you alight. He’s so deep in your guts that you’re sure you’d find a bulge if you looked down at where your bodies meet. “So good…! So, so good!”

The way you hold each other is so desperate and devoted that it feels biblical. “I can feel you in my stomach, Omi… So deep…! Y-You’re… too deep!”

Kiyoomi grunts as he pushes himself in to the hilt and holds himself there for a blissful second. Grinding his hips in shallow circles that make you choke on your tongue, but you barely know the half of until he’s lifting up one of your legs.

And then the other, lifting on his knees till he’s hovering over your pretty face, - and then he starts pistoning.

The way your face contorts from a flustered glimmer of welling tears to a blissed out gape that cutens as your tears fall is enough to make his balls feel tight enough to burst. Never mind how fucking amazing this new angle is, watching you lose your mind under him as those pretty tits move to the current of his thrusts is making his brain feel all cloudy. — He’s sure the eye contact he’s keeping is transparent in the fact that he’s turned a little love drunk. Ducking his head to press tempered kisses on your throat, but he can’t help himself from the way his lips skim up to your ear and his mouth moves without him really thinking about it.

It’s a pleasure induced haze, he’s sure. But he can’t be forgiven for the absolute filthy things he’s saying to you.

“You hear that?” He drags in a few particularly forceful thrusts that make you sob so prettily for him. “You’re really soaking me up, huh.”

“Is it that good? You feel me deep in your tummy?” Kiyoomi swivels his hips. “S-Shit. What a pretty fucking noise that just was. Fuck, baby. - Oh, are you crying?”

“Too much?” But even still he presses more of his weight on you until every thrust is hitting you to the hilt. So deep that every other press of his hips forces a yip out of you that makes his face hot. — He’s really starting to think he might be ruined for anyone else at this point.

“You’re g’nna take it for me anyway though, huh? Slutty baby… You’re gonna let me fuck you brain dead? Fuck you till you’re all stupid for me?”

You sound as far gone as he is. “Y- Yes! Yes!”

“Yeah, that’s it, angel. Such a… fuck… good fucking girl for me.”

You must be close to cumming cause you’re really starting to milk him for all he’s worth. Sucking him back in every time he pulls away and every moment he continues to fuck into you you only get tighter.

He’s losing his mind. “Ohhh fuck. Fuck! I swear to god I’m gonna break you. G’nna - shit - gonna fuck you till you’re all mine, yeah? H-Holy shit-“

Kiyoomi groans at the way your fingernails start to dig groves into his back. “Mhm. Mark me up, angel. Wanna see you all over me when we’re done.”

You grab a helping of his hair and hold on to it for dear life, you’re drooling at this point. “Oh my god… oh m’ god, Kiyoomi… I’m- I’m gonna make a mess!”

“Yeah?” Which obviously means he’s reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit. “Gonna make a mess? Wanna soak me in your pretty cum?”

“Give it to me then, baby. I’ll fill you up so good when you do.”

You croon in his ear and it sounds like gospel.

And then you’re soaking the bed with your cum.

Kiyoomi doesn’t let up even as your juices wet down his pelvis and legs. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts or the rhythm he’s keeping on your clit, still whispering words of filth and praise in your ear, — and it looks like you’ve completely lost yourself to the pleasure at this point. The way his name is clipping so desperately off your tongue is making his eyes roll into his head. And it’s just a few more moments of fucking into your spasming pussy till he’s following you off the edge.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” He hisses. “Mmmh - Oh fuck, baby. I’m cumming… f-fuck! I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Oh god, even after last night there’s still so much of it. So much and so hot. Just the feeling of clenching on his hot cum as he continues to fuck into you is sending you over the edge again. God, the sounds you’re both making. Thank goodness his penthouse is big enough to not worry about disturbing any of his neighbors, reinforced flooring probably snuffing out the sound of your debauched love making. He’s never been the most vocal in bed but you’re making him whine into your ear like a cheap whore. And the sounds you’re making - Fuck, the sounds you’re making, he wouldn’t be surprised if he turned his head and found the decorative plants near his terrace sprouting flowers. It shouldn’t even be possible to sound that fucking good and feel this fucking amazing all at once.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even realize that bed making firm clicks into the wall until he starts to slow up his thrusts. Gradually coming down from his high until his desperate movements become slow and sensuous grinding, still rocking into you even as you settle again in his arms.

He lifts his head to bring you into a lazy kiss, a little sloppy, a little butterfly inducing.

You sigh into his lips. “…Holy shit.”

Kiyoomi pulls away to press a few slow kisses into your jaw. “I think I just might be addicted to you.”

“You’re telling me…” You cross your legs over his back. “Is it too early to suggest we go steady?”

He snorts a little. “As if I’m letting you go anywhere after that.”

Kiyoomi raises his back to gingerly kiss you on the lips, so tender it feels loving. Even as he pulls away he seems ailed by it. He is ailed by it. He can’t even imagine how he’ll fare when he has to get up eventually.

His breath is warm against your lips. The way he speaks to you feels reverent. “You’re stuck with me now.”

You smile. And he goosebumps. “Aren’t I lucky then?”

reblog uwu?

His voice is balming, it always is when he addresses you. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

You silently furrow into his hands.

“I-I’m…”

“I don’t...” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. Everybody’s out there waiting for me and I-I’m-“

Kiyoomi cuts you off quietly. “Don’t even think about that. Today is about us. No one else.”

You frown.

“I’m… Kiyoomi… Out of all people…” And it’s a good thing this makeup is waterproof because you’re surely about to push it to its limit. “Why me? Why choose me?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that.”

“But why, Omi?” Your lip wobbles. “I-I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t have the same training that you do, o-or the strength to be able to handle a lifestyle like this. I’m not the wife of a kingpin. The only reason I’m here is because-“

Kiyoomi firmly shushes you as he stands to his feet. Too burly and too tall, blocking out the overhead lights till the raven tufts of curls on his scalp turn miscolored and fluorescent. Like always your eyes follow him in his movements, like always, he’s ginger as he pulls you in his grasp.

Your nose is mushed into the cotton of his button up, his lips are warm and definite as he presses them against your forehead. “I don’t care about titles or circumstance. I don’t care about any of those things...” Kiyoomi swallows. “I love you and I need you. If this lifestyle is what you’re worried about then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

You sniffle against his dress shirt. Something like that should be comforting. Especially in the arms of your future husband - one half of a bonafide national empire, and you, soon to be its elegant latter halve. Saying you fear your safety may have been a little asinine to say. In this past year and a half, you haven't so much as gotten a splinter without being assured that whatever half-cocked piece of wood that wronged you would wind up making soot prints in some landfill. You could throw a rock and hit a corpse before it even got the chance to berate you. Saying something like that will only encourage him more. An excuse to distance you from your public freedoms, and hire men that all but follow you around and chew your food for you. And even though it’s pig shit to deal with, it's already habitual. It gives you room to keep your fears to a one man minimum. But with that being said,

Kiyoomi skims his nose down the bridge of yours till his breath is kissing fever spots on your Cupid’s bow. Shivery puffs of desperate air, overwhelmed in his distance. He pinkens like a schoolboy when he’s too close for too long. Amps himself up just to trill at the high he gets from being this near - but not near enough to taste the bliss that’s your candied lips. He loves you. - He loves you. He loves you. So much it makes him shudder. Even in the short time he’s had his hands on you his palms have gone sweaty. Making hotspots on your cheekbones as he thumbs your stray tears aside.

“I know we’re not the most… conventional couple,” Quasi-post-Stockholm syndrome? “How hard things were for you in the beginning, and how much it took for us to get here. I wish I could’ve done this the right way. - You deserve that much.”

“But I love you so much it makes me sick. It’s the only thing that keeps me breathing.”

You lean into his hands as he scoots away to get a good look at you. His lovesick eyes turn the whites of yours a stinging scarlet, and you hate that seeing him get choked up cuts you so deeply.

But he only ever really cries in front of you anyway. A man this neck deep in generational human trafficking, drug trading, arms dealing, and like a million other equally awful things, should have his fair moments to excuse himself for a quiet weep. “Kiyoomi…”

“I’m sorry,” He leans in for a watery kiss. “I’m sorry. Weakness is the last thing we need from me right now.”

You guide his head against yours, and share the weight with a linchpin. It’s so recurrent that it’s earnest when you console him. “Wellness is, baby. This is about the both of us.”

“I… already don’t know what my life would be like without you. I never think about it. Every day it’s you and when are you gonna be home. - Are you gonna come back to me in one piece? Will you still be you and will you love me the same? What would I do alone in that big house?”

You mirror his thumb as you sweep away his tears. “What would I do if I didn’t have you anymore?”

The way Kiyoomi melts into your grasp is like the anodyne of a baby bird, crooning as you assague him. There’s nothing on this earth that could give him the comfort you do, and the realization of that feels brand new every time.

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Nineteen,” Your voice pitches. He always makes these last few count and these open palmed welts are what trip you up every time. If you miss these he starts over. He’s already done it twice in this sitting. But his knees are starting to dig into your ribs and your bottom won’t survive another round if he keeps at it.

“Tw-Twenty!”

He holds his palm in the air for a pensive second.

You flinch when it’s stationed gingerly on your skirt. “Look at me.”

You dutifully obey - but it isn’t without the shame of meeting his blank stare with your sniveling glower. Frown pulling still falling tears over your jaw and you're helpless to stop your bottom lip from quivering.

You know what he’s about to say before he says it. “Now apologize.”

“I-I’m…” You sound pathetic. “I apologize for my bad behavior, and for being a poor representation of my superior!”

You hiccup before adding. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Senpai.”

Aki swipes a fresh tear from the corner of your mouth. “Good.”

It’s routine, the few light taps he gives you on your behind that finally permits you to lift off his lap. Numbing legs wobbling on your heels but you know better than to misstep in front of him. - His long legs stretch him out even taller as he stands above your head, the way he stares at you under his nose is sweat-inducing. But you stand straight as he acknowledges you fully, and you bow regardless of the tears that wet polished wood when your back bends.

Another pitiful sniffle, it’s a challenge to straighten and meet his eyes again.

But appraises you a final time. Contentedly.

Although, maybe the decision to have you move in just yet was a little asinine. He’s been thinking of buying a house. One with a nice view of the stars and the city lights - right on the cusp of the rural area but not a full on road trip to the city; with a big lawn and grassy hedges, white picket fence, open windows, and a mailbox with your names on it.

Or name.

Kiyoomi almost drops the box when those October winds start to nip through his jacket. The falling sky promises something much colder as he tips his reddened nose to the clouds, and watches as they darken with rumbling rain.

It doesn’t take him but a few long strides to get back to the second level where you are, strenuously pushing the next much bigger box into the living room.

“Do you have a coat? It’s gonna start to rain soon.”

You sigh a little tiredly to yourself. “I’m already pretty heated up from all this moving, a little rain won’t hurt.”

“No, you’ll get sick.” Kiyoomi parries. “I’ll put you in my jacket then. I can just run to the car.”

“I don’t want you to over exert yourself, Omi. You’ve got a game coming up, remember? If anyone shouldn’t be getting sick it’s you.”

You follow his movements as he bends for one of the boxes, avoiding the second much lighter one as you nudge it in his view. “Besides, I doubt it’ll start raining before we can drive back to Tokyo. Forecast says the storm will just miss us.”

Kiyoomi shorts you a glance that’s mostly concerned with the loaded box in front of him. “I- Angel, I still don’t want you to get sick. I can handle a little overwork. You, I very much doubt.”

“Wha-? What’s that supposed to- Oh wait, baby that one’s really heavy-“

He lifts it up like it’s nothing.

“Oh…” You gawp. “Right. Pro-athlete.”

Kiyoomi scoffs in favor of letting your astonished gape boost his ego. Though his eyes do catch on the little sliver of polished oak peeking through the box in his hands.

He tilts his head. “What’s this?”

- You break out in a full sweat.

“Uh- W-Wait, wait, baby don’t-“

He’s already swerving to the side to dodge you. Long muscled limbs suddenly too lithe to catch as he turns his shoulder to duck your attempts to stop him, and missing the way you moue at the realization that Christ, you forgot this guy was still somebody’s little brother.

Which means beside his usual indifferent candor, he evades your efforts to stop him from peaking inside with the kind of goading of someone used to slinking away with something he shouldn’t have. Even as you whine he half taunts at the way you try to get a hold of him. “What? What is-“

Kiyoomi nudges open the seal a little more. “Are these posters?”

“Omi-“

“Are these my posters?”

“Stop-“

“Have you been-“ He almost wants to laugh. You’re jumping. “Have you been collecting my posters? All this time?”

“Can you just-“

“You framed them too. Oh wow-“

“S-Stop it!”

Kiyoomi actually does laugh this time. Like, he actually laughs. And you know it’s supposed to be mean but it flutters out with such genuine mirth that it gives you butterflies. It makes you feel hot to the apples of your cheeks and punches you in the gut with the kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago - but hasn’t. ~ He cards his eyes through the box. You watch him. But instead of horror or disgust, or worse the realization that his girlfriend might be a little lamer than he originally thought;

It’s pride. Honest to god delight that raises his lips over his teeth and turns his cheeks a little chubby. Zeal, and glee, and that kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago -

But hasn’t. “Why have you been hiding these? We could’ve kept these next to all your stuff I keep.”

“All my…?”

“Your diploma, your board certificate, your license,” Kiyoomi absently taps his fingers against the box. Which as he does you all but stiffen at the realization. You figured he encouraged you to make copies because it was safer having a backup, and when you found them framed in his hallway later on you thought nothing of it. I mean, he has a lot of frames in his hallway. Family pictures, the Photo Booth reel from your first date, some miscellaneous pictures of his two siblings,

Your graduation picture, your first anniversary photo, the picture he made you take before your first day as a therapist-

Oh.

Kiyoomi gestures you forward as he starts the motion of walking to his car. “With the way you iced me out before we started dating I was worried you didn’t even like volleyball.”

“Of course I like volleyball?” If the little fan trinkets in the box you’re carrying should mean anything. “I’ve been to like all of your games?”

“Yeah, I know that now,”

He makes the motion of shimming his jacket down his shoulders as he carefully sits the box where the others are, easily lifting the final one out of your grasp as he passes it over; and the way his biceps pop out of his t-shirt makes you shudder when he lifts his arms to close the trunk.

His jacket is warm, it smells just like him. “But you were sure playing coy when we first got together.”

- You, again, break into a sweat.

The way your nose crinkles up in embarrassment is honestly enough to have him suppressing a smirk when he turns to you again. Albeit poorly. Seriously, this guy seems intent on teasing you into the mud today.

“Well!” You stammer. “Because-“

“Well, because!” Kiyoomi kisses you on the forehead as you gasp at the way he openly mocks you. “Shut up. You’re so cute it’s stupid.”

He pinches your cheeks when you rightfully pout at him. “And fix your face. It’ll get stuck like that.”

“When did you become such a bully?!”

“Somewhere between “Can you be my girlfriend?” and “I love you too.””