MewoP

The wind blows back your veil as you sit with your legs crossed on the steps outside the Grand Regent's palace. Sun high in the sky, shades of green peek in the corner of the sky and reflect off the figure of a being long gone, who stands behind you. The great statue honoring the man who shaped what Viltrum is today is an afterthought.

You’re dressed in your cloak, another one actually, as you twirl the ends of your veil. The Viltrumite sits hunched over beside you, legs spread and hands clasped together with his elbows propped on his thighs. The dark-haired male sinks his head with a sigh, “I'm going to have to constantly be prepared…” Being seen with you, such a foreign-looking person, is grounds for altercation from a questioning Viltrumite.

You were invited to witness him train the new cadets, and perhaps train with him as well, but your refusal was adamant; there’s no way you’d survive battling even against a Viltrumite child, and you knew he astounded beyond words at hearing that. 

Perhaps masking his contempt as well, but knowing your own kind better than anyone, you know the concept of hiding any hint of disgust is alien in your language.

Your mother always went soft when training with you, so you only have the concept of a true spar due to his previous blows. Whenever he hit you, or whenever pain racked your form, your instinct was to freeze up or cover the wound—nothing about you is battle-ready.

Your knee nudges his, and he looks at your concealed face from over his shoulder, disgruntled at having a burden like you join, yet it was his idea in the first place, he admits to himself.

“Regret inviting me, Viltrumite?”

He huffs through his nose, “Don’t test me.” He looks away, “And yes, I am.”

Not only do you stick out like a sore thumb, but the danger has increased tenfold now that you’re in such an open space, far away from the bunker. There’s always a ship and a Viltrumite blocking out the sun whenever something passes by in the sky, just seconds away from you being noticed. 

You smile under your veil and reach a hand out. The dark-haired warrior tenses up automatically—which doesn’t really make sense because you can’t best him in a fight. More perturbed, he watches as you push back his cowlick. It then springs back out, distancing itself from the other hairs.

He sighs at your antics. You’ve become more touchy in this third encounter.

The warrior grabs your wrist, unconsciously careful of his grip, and slowly pulls your hand away, “Take this more seriously. Your life is on the line.”

“That’s the case with every Viltrumite.”

He lets go of your wrist, “And you’re a Viltrumite whose life is more fragile than the others.”

You pause at hearing him use the word fragile, a bit more endearing than the typical usage of weak or feeble for a Viltrumite to use. You slip your hand out of his grip with a shrug, cloak swishing from the movement. “I’m still right in general.”

The dark-haired male closes his eyes to ignore the spike of irritation at your attempt at the last word, then goes back to waiting patiently for the Viltrumite children.

“This behavior of yours isn’t like when we first met.”

You perk up at his words, a bit flattered at his noticing the change in your behavior. A wide grin grows underneath your veil, and you begin nearing him again. The light-eyed Viltrumite doesn’t react to the way your thigh presses against his, coming to know any crumb of attention has you reeling for more reactions, but he manages to hide the twitch on his own body, his thigh, instinctively leaning into yours more as well.

“What’s different?”

His eyes stare at the space where the cadets will be standing any moment, not bothering to acknowledge you. “You keep touching me.”

You laugh and gently bump your shoulder against his, “I don’t see you stopping any of it.”

“I’m tempted to stop it,” he turns his head in the opposite direction of yours to conceal the twitch in the corner of his lips, “permanently.”

You laugh more, his comment half-humor and half-truthful, knowing what Viltrumites typically do in their spare time. You raise your hand again, but this time to pull your veil back and expose yourself to the pretty hues of the plaza. 

It’s such a nice change of pace after being cooped up for so long, and it was honestly considerate of him to give you a chance at seeing more of the world—consideration being something nearly far beyond the capabilities of a Viltrumite. It’s easier to explore the outside world with an accomplice, but who’s to say you’re not in the same danger even if you were alone? He probably wouldn’t help you.

You'd like to think otherwise, though.

Your smiling face turns to admire his side profile, “This is nice. I like this.”

He pauses, then looks at you from the corner of his eye, not turning his head. “What are you referring to?”

You gesture towards the area with a wave of your arm, white cloak fluttering. “Seeing all of this with someone.”

You think for a moment as you lower your hand. “I’ve never had someone to look at the scenery like this… not even my mom.”

He goes back to staring into space as he squeezes his clenched palm—he never had a chance to stare and admire the world, either, let alone with his own family.

His own mother… in all honesty, he’s never considered her when it came to anything but strength. Both of his parents, and perhaps all of Viltrum, see no point in admiring what’s fruitless. The colors of the world, the construction, and the flora are all left to the slaves because superior beings don’t waste time on frivolous things; they use it to hone what’s superior about them.

The Viltrumite snaps out of his thoughts as you shakily pull the veil over your face, hands and cloak trembling from your tremors. You stand up slowly with a hitched breath, and he lifts his gaze to you, questioning why you’re wordlessly retreating, then he hears the sound of footsteps.

There’s a wet, dripping noise, and he’s immediately hit with the familiar scent of copper, tasting the blood on the back of his tongue. 

He turns his head, and his gaze is impassive, the sight all too common to him but horrifying and downright revolting to you as you walk towards the jade statue. 

Only one of the four children reappeared, and there’s a reason why, stained in crimson and dripping head to toe. There are remnants of both dried and fresh blood, telling of having battled for hours—perhaps the entire yesterday night. The little Viltrumite crosses her arms behind her back with a neutral stare as she regards her superior without a word. 

And it’s obvious what occurred for her to look like that. 

The sight not only turns your stomach but also has your mind whirling as you disappear around the base of the statue. You've read about the children being treated no differently than the older Viltrumites, perhaps only given a grace period as a toddler and before hitting puberty, but seeing the cruelty leaking from her, the price of being indoctrinated so young, doesn’t sit right within you.

Your stomach turns, and you hold a hand over your mouth, feeling a weakness in your limbs. Just the sight of something unsightly has you on the verge of nearly collapsing. 

What kind of society is this?

“I didn’t take you for being mentally weak as well.”

You, oddly, feel comforted by that familiar voice as you don’t look up at him. He stands there after dismissing and congratulating the little girl for both her prowess and for making the late Emperor proud. ''All is ours," is the chant that was said before her dismissal.

The sun doesn't reach the two of you as you both speak behind the statue. You shakily begin to pull the veil over your head as your voice wavers, sounding as if you could fall apart at any moment. “This… is what you do?”

“I told you, yes.” The dark-haired male raises an eyebrow, confused at your switch in behavior, sounding sudden and so grievous. He was to monitor the young; most Viltrumites his age oversee the young, seeing as the ones who are centuries older have more important matters to deal with. 

You conceal your shaken face from his as you fidget with the ends of your veil. “So you must see them like that all the time…”

“Correct, yes.” He’s still normal about this, and it makes you even more distressed. Every day with him, you realize why your mother decided to keep you in that bunker.

“And,” you look up at him, “this is fine to you? You’re…" You swallow, "You don’t mind seeing children bloody?”

He looks at you as if you’re the crazy one. The taller male folds his arms behind his back, “What reason should I be bothered for? You get blood on you after killing your enemies.”

You sigh, “It’s not just the blood.”

He averts his gaze to the statue, “Whatever your reason may be, everything points back to paying respects to our late Emperor.”

You know. You’ve read all about it. The Betrayer, the assassination, the Great Purge in his following leaving the population halved. 

Perhaps you’re more insightful than an overwhelming majority on the ideals of The Betrayer. You've read reverent drivel and notes understanding of The Betrayer's actions—they condemned every ideal that made Viltrum what it is today, detached, sacifical, merciless. The notes were hidden, however, in the locked documents of the bunker, by the behest of your mother, seeing as she's the one who wrote them.

Those same documents that the Viltrumite standing next to you tried to access.

You slide down the statue feeling uneasy inside out, yet you’re immediately picked up by the scruff of your cloak, being brought up to your knees and back to your feet. “The last thing you should also do is insult the late Emperor by doing this.”

You look up at him, and he stares at you with an arm still folded behind his back. Your gaze softens underneath the fabric despite your tone being that of tease.

“Sweet of you to pick me up like that.”

The stronger Viltrumite's brow twitches, bothered by the teasing in your tone, and immediately drops you, releasing his hold on your cloak. You stumble, instantly losing balance. As your cloak flutters, your hands wave out erratically to balance your weight.

The dark-haired Viltrumite turns his head the other way, hiding the amusement on his face.

“I forget how helpless you are. You struggle like a newborn fawn.”

The amusement is plastered in his voice, enough that you don’t need to look up to know what expression is painting his face. You huff and then stand upright, hiding your hands under your cloak again.

“Oh? Like what you did in my room?”

He pauses.

Wordlessly, he drops his floded arms and walks away from you rather than answering, fully knowing there’s barely a rebuttal. The shadows slide off his silent, embarrassed form as he emerges from behind the base of the statue. You eye the back of his head with a grin, pulling the veil back more to spill over your shoulders.

Ripples crease into the fabric as your feet lift off the ground, flying after him while laughing, “It’s cute you tripped over my favorite book too.”

He huffs through his nose as you both become exposed to the sun once more. The quiet sound of his footfalls and the flaps of your fabric, and that little huff of his, too, gives you an answer as a concrete response.

You hover beside him, finally matching his height, as you look around. 

“So,” your veil swishes from the wind, “do you have more cadets to train? You work at an academy?”

He turns his head to you and crosses his arms, “I’m not the only mentor, but yes. Soldiers who haven’t had their rite of passage are typically subjected to training the children.”

His gaze wanders off to the droplets of blood painting the ground, the footprints leading to where the little girl once stood. “My coming of age is to be soon, so I'll no longer be at the academy.” A smile nearly twitches at the corner of his lips at the thought of finally being at the front lines, serving the Empire, and truly making use of what his body was destined for.

“The fight?”

He looks up at you, “Day of adulthood, but yes, calling it a fight would also be right.”

You plop to your feet next to him and follow his gaze to the puddles of blood. “Are you nervous?”

He scoffs, “I’ve been prepared for the test since the day I got my powers.”

Your hands peek from the cloak and fiddle with your veil. “So you didn’t have any fun as a child?”

The warrior looks down at you, searching for the correlation between not having fun and becoming a true Viltrumite. You look up at him and stare at his eyes through the veil, “Every day after you unlocked your powers, you’ve only had your goal set on becoming strong enough to pass the rite.”

He watches as you twirl a piece of the cloth around your finger, “So did you have any memories worth remembering all those years?”

“You make it sound as if we don’t last a millennium.”

You shrug. “Or I appreciate every minute.”

“There’s no reason to,” he turns away and gradually steps towards the puddles, staring at his reddened reflection, “because nothing is worth cherishing if it’s going to diminish in the smallest bit of our lifetime.”

You pull the veil to reveal your grinning mouth, “So... if it can last long as we can, it’s worth remembering?”

He glances at you from over his shoulder, “I didn’t say that.” He looks up at the statue, “But if it can stay strong, even after years of suffrage, and come back stronger than it once was… then perhaps it is.”

You fully pull the veil above your eyes as you beam at him, and he makes sure to not look back at you, knowing fully well you have that smile he can’t stand, heat-inducing and all, on your face.

“Then I’m worth remembering.”

He actually snorts for once and cups the lower half of his face, rubbing away the smile.

You place your hands on your hips in response, only able to see the back of his head and his moving hand. “Don’t do that. I can live just as long as you can.”

Knowing your expression is probably pulled into a scowl, maybe on the playful side, he turns around with a brow quirked and a lopsided smile. The fidgeting at the end of your veil stops as you take in the expression gracing his features; you've never seen him looking this soft. You pause at seeing such an open display of emotion, other than anger, while he responds.

“You can hardly survive when I hit you with barely any force, and yet you have the gall to say you’re worth remembering?”

You wag a finger at him, shit-eating grin on your face. “You’re smiling at me like I am.”

His face immediately drops into a frown, and his cheeks turn pink. The light-eyed male turns back around, going back to examining the statue in silent admiration, but it’s a mask to hide the frustration at your quips and embarrassment prickling under his skin.

You grin at his abrupt silence and step next to him, carefully sidestepping the red plastered on the ground. He doesn’t bother hiding the flush on his cheek and glares up at the statue, scowling and pink in the face. 

The Viltrumite is intentionally ignoring your presence, making him look more silly, as the silence between you two makes itself home. It persists as you slowly pull your hand away from the soft fabric of your veil while observing the dusted hue on his face.

He looks... very endearing with a flush like that.

Part of you wants to touch his cheek in that same manner your mother does to you, and your fingers twitch. The itch tingles in your fingers more as you raise your hand, slowly, but before the heat of your skin can make contact with his, his hand is already enveloping your wrist to halt the action, slowly wrapping each of his fingers and enveloping.

He averts his flushed scowl from the statue, and the heat of his palm, clammy and damp, embarrasses him even further. It bleeds into your skin as you stare silently at one another.

“Why do you…” He gathers his words as he clears his throat, eyes flickering away and losing contact for a moment, “What is with this change in behavior?”

You don’t slide your hand from out of his grasp, “Because I like being with you now.”

His ears flush as his frown deepens. The dark-haired male furrows his brows as his clammy grip on your wrist increases, squeezing it in thought. “Why?”

Going through your mind, you track to rack out any possible reason as to why you feel so comfortable with a Viltrumite who’s assaulted you multiple times. Lifting your head with the resolution found, you slowly turn your hand in his grip, “You know, I’ve thought about that too.”

He stares at you.

And his eyes soften at your next words, yet he masks it with a small flutter of his lashes.

“One mistake, or a couple, shouldn't be the end of the world, you know?” You look up, far past the jade statue paying homage, and to the sky, "No one gets it right the first time. I know better than anyone with how many chances at life I've been given."

You should be dead, is the unspoken truth between those words.

With how his body reacts, his soul understands those words more than what his brain does—he knows those words better than anyone.

The Viltrumite's heart clenches briefly, not the unfurling kind you make him desire and yearn, but the kind that makes him feel he isn't one to his kin. Remembering how many times he had to end the children who couldn’t get it right the first time, to the point where he had to give them grace, the gratifying moment of hesitancy, as a way for them to correct what isn’t considered the Viltrumite way in a bet of chance.

Because not doing it right the first time meant death.

He doesn’t even notice when you’ve slid your finger between the gaps of his and gently clasps it. The action is weightless yet comforting, normal to where he doesn’t question it as his mind probes over the young and the old he’s ended.

The dark-haired male breaks away from his thoughts as the feeling actualizes, foreign and unusual. He stares down at your fingers around his palm, fingers making themselves home as if they belong there, then looks up at you, confused.

Blush long gone, he can only wait for the reason of why you’re touching him like this.

Your free hand twirls the fabric of your veil as you, instead, stare up at the sky in thought. 

“Did she know your name?”

He guesses you’re just going to ignore how you’re holding his hand for whatever reason. “What?”

You peek at him from the corner of your eye, then go back to mimicking his behavior a minute ago, his attempt at being distracted, “The little cadet. She calls you by your name, right? Or is it just sir?”

“I don’t know hers, and she doesn’t know mine.”

You hum and nod, expecting that answer. Your hand doesn’t leave his as another silence washes over you two.

The sound of birds flapping and a freight passing fills in the blank space of noise.

“Today was nice…” Your hand squeezes his unconsciously as you remember the sight from minutes earlier, “expect for the bloody kid.”

He sighs through his nose, “You will get used it the more you step outside.”

You look back at him. “I don’t think I will.”

He looks down at you with that usual expression, stern and serious, but still hasn’t pulled his hand away from yours. “You’ll have no choice to,” he looks back up, “because it’s our way of life.”

You fidget with your veil with your other hand, “Yours and everyone else’s, actually. Mine is staying inside and reading.”

“And that very thing is wasting away the little power you have in your body.”

You hum, “Or I could be strengthening something else.”

He raises a brow, and a wind passes between you two. Your hand leaves his to keep your veil secured over your head, and he’s never felt such a loss. 

As you readjust your veil, he flexes his fingers at his side. They already feel incomplete and lacking without your warmth surrounding them.

A small part of him, the one who won’t acknowledge any part of what you do to him on a more intimate scale, waits for you to slide your fingers back into his again. Your hands, instead, drop at your sides after you pull the veil back over your face.

The Viltrumite clenches his fist for a moment, feeling the emptiness now present, then looks away as he folds his arm behind his back.

You look nicer when it’s not on.

—————-

The trip back to the bunker was silent and a bit long because of how slowly you fly. He often found himself debating whether he should hold you as he flies to make the trip quicker, but there was the passing thought of your skin potentially ripping off due to how fragile you are.

When your feet touch the platform of your bunker, the sky is already darkening. The Viltrumite, however, keeps off the ground and turns to stare up at the hues bleeding into the orange. “You’re fortunate.”

Your veil flutters as you turn around, concealed eyes looking up curiously at his hovering form. The Viltrumite stares up at the mixing gradients, pink touching more of the orange.

“Can you elaborate on that?”

He looks down at you, “You have a shelter to come home to.”

Most don’t have a place where they feel safe enough to call a home. He doesn’t have a safe enough place to call a home.

The warm hues paint the side of his uniform, the white easily soaking up the pinks and oranges, as his boots touch the ground. He nears you as his voice remains steady, “We begin already detached to where we’re born because it can always be replaced.”

He stops in a couple of paces away from you, “And we begin learning that what’s easily destroyed can be easily acquired, especially with prowess like ours.”

You snort, “Like yours.”

He crosses his arms, “You’re still a Viltrumite, weak or not.”

You fiddle with your veil, and his heart skips a bit in anticipation at the thought of you revealing your face. 

“You know, I can recall a certain Viltrumite, who still hasn’t told me his name, insisting on how I didn’t seem like one.”

Capturing himself too excited at the thought of seeing your face, he averts his gaze to the now pink and purpled sky, orange finally taking its slumber. “I didn’t know of you that well before.”

“You still don’t.”

He sighs through his nose, feeling uncharacteristically bothered by the idea of not. “That’s true.”

You follow his gaze to the sky. Specks of white and yellow decorate the sky in dots, big and small, enchanting enough to stare at. The towers light up the darkening sky, and theres nothing but glitter on the horizon. 

“The veil.”

You curiously turn your head to him as he speaks up, and his eyes still face the sky.

“Why do you wear it?”

You tilt your head, confused, and he knows your answer—the same one from last time about your mother’s bestowing. “Not for the reason your mother gifted to you, but why do you insist on wearing it?”

You think about his words, never really considering why you kept on wearing it without second-guessing the thought. “It looks nice," you pause, "and feels nice.”

He lowers his gaze to the ground, collecting the words of how he should properly articulate his thoughts. 

The male then turns to you and uncrosses his arms. “A Viltrumite has no reason to hide their face. You should be presenting every inch of yourself. You are one of superior blood.”

You cross your arms under your cloak, “Doesn’t really feel like it.”

He ignores that and continues the point he’s making. The taller male is only a few more paces away as he looks down at you, voice in its normal state.

“So I say this: you don’t need to wear it.”

You place your hands on your hips. “I don’t wear it out of necessity, I wear it because I like the way it looks.”

“It’s unbecoming,” he argues.

You immediately raise an eyebrow from under the veil, “What’s ugly about it? All it does is cover my face.”

He was this close, literally just one second away, from saying that was the issue. The male averts his gaze. “And it’s not customary for a Viltrumite to do that.”

You snort, “I’m not a customary Viltrumite.”

He sighs frustrated. “Doesn’t it obscure your vision?”

“Barely.”

The male raise a hand to his face and pinches the skin between his brows, “You’re more susceptible of drawing attention with it on.”

“But that didn’t happen to day, did it?”

“Oh, for—I don’t like it when you have it on.”

You both pause. 

The dark-haired male's cheeks immediately flush as he crosses his arms again, seeing no reason to double down after admitting his inner thoughts. “I find you to be much more appealing without it on.”

You slowly grin under the veil, then step one pace near him, deciding to egg him on. You place a hand to where your ear would be, fingers brushing the side of your head. “Huh? I didn’t quite catch that?”

His brow twitches as the flush spreads more than just his cheeks. “Stop this.”

You near him more, the shit-eating grin decorated all in your tone. “I didn’t hear you, Viltrumite.”

Patience quickly lost, he sighs and reaches out a hand as you step into his personal space. The warrior grips your arm and pulls back your veil in that same breath, being met with your grinning face, and the stars bouncing in your eyes.

The sky’s lighter hues are long gone, and he sees the colors of the galaxy reflected in those depths.

“You,” his voice becomes quieter, “look better without it on.”

You laugh, “This is coming from the same Viltrumite who beat me and said my face holds a power?”

He fully pulls the veil down to your shoulders, then steps back, fully admiring your smiling face.

He's never seen the entire universe, from start to end, in a person's eyes.

The Viltrumite turns around and sighs through his nose, facing the sky again as his gaze becomes half-lidded. “I still would, and that’s still true.”

“You know, I’ll get my payback for that one day.”

He snorts and glances over his shoulder, “Challenging me? With that body and strength of yours?”

And he pauses, eyes widening.

Your hand cups his cheek, catching him completely off guard.

The light-eyed Viltrumite's heart races, and he can actually hear it in his ears this time—rushing, pounding, overwhelming. It’s not only the way your hand feels, because he knows he could surrender his pride and nestle into your palm breathlessly—reverently, but it’s in the way your fingers touch his heated skin. It’s appreciative, adoring, in its touch, and holds him as if he isn’t a resilient being that could easily shatter you.

You hold his face as if he could easily shatter instead. 

And, dear God, does his heart almost do that—both ripping out of his chest and flourishing under the touch. His hand shakily lifts in response, on autopilot, to remove it. 

The taller male's thick fingers wrap around your wrist, and his thumb presses against your pulse. It’s not like his; yours isn’t elevated and seems to keep control under every action, while he’s a melting mess in front of you.

He looks above your head, awkwardly and flusteredly avoiding eye contact, as he detaches your palm and drops his hands at his sides. The night air brushes the pink of his ears and the pink of his cheeks, almost as if the world knew how much of a flustered mess he's turning into.

You, sneakily, slide your fingers through his, and his heart skips a beat again. “I got my payback, see?”

The dark-haired male closes his eyes with a reluctant smile. Fleetingly, he squeezes your hand then pulls his away. The cool air of the night cards itself through his hair and through the cloak on your body as you continue smiling at him, both yielding to the wind's push.

You were a burden–are a burden.

You tug the opaque veil over your head more as the brief touch of your mother departs from your cheek. Hidden from the world, she's kept you in a bunker used for one of the tower's cargo. The walls are all the same, and the lack of pigment drives you to desire for more stimulation.

Her warmth lingers on the apple of your cheek, a warmth no superior being should understand, and spreads throughout your form. It makes you feel whole.

She gives you one last glance, no glance a Viltrumite should ever adorn, and departs from your quarters—automatic doors sliding close and leaving you in your lonesome with relics from a bygone era.

Her expression was the weakest, most pitiful expression that has no name in the Viltrumite language. It is simultaneously beautiful yet sickeningly distasteful; the upturn of her lips with no malice, the crinkle in the corners of her eyes, and the lightest shine eyes could ever reflect. 

Yet it made you all the more safer whenever she presented it after every departure. 

Your eyes scan the browns and withered hues of the books surrounding your form. It's your only understanding of the societal norms of today and of eras ago, yet they only remind you of one apparent fact: 

You shouldn’t be alive.

Born weaker than the average Viltrumite, even after the Purge, is a disgrace not only to your mother, but to the entire race itself. If one witnessed the unmistakable fragility that exudes from your form like a perfume, your innards would be painting the ground in that same breath. You don’t fear the thought of death, but your mother, her and that expression, does. 

And you often wonder how long she can continue her facade of a warrior before a crack pierces the mask.

Your fingers ghost across the spine of a book as you gather your cloak's wrinkles, upon the request of your mother. Consequently, you were to be adorned in this veil and loose clothing to hide your blatantly fragile psyche. Too soft in certain areas—like your hands, especially your hands.

The fabric brushes your legs and arms as you cradle the book to your chest; it’s just like you. Outdated and unnecessary, yet kept due to the affection from its owner. 

The pages are long yellowed, but that doesn't stop you from admiring what was written from an age long passed—when Viltrumites valued the intangible more than tangible, when their hearts blossomed with warmth instead of adrenaline, when they understood the importance of a bond.

And it’s a bond that keeps you shielded from the outside world. The makeshift sanctuary your mother made sure to secure—worn down, forgotten, and perfect for keeping her valued bond safe from the true upholders of the Empire. 

Your fingers touch a crinkled edge of the book.

But you want to leave this space. Whether it’s in your blood to feel the adrenaline rush beneath your skin, you don’t know, but what you do know is that hovering around in circles and waiting for her to reappear isn’t going to make you any stronger. 

The real question is: should you leave?

Unfortunately, you aren't molded like the others, both in personality and physique. Your mimicry of aggression will be taken as hesitation, your hesitation will be taken as weakness, and your weakness will result in death.

But you already know making such an overthought conclusion was more than how the rest perceived the world. It’s action first, thoughts later—something you’ve grown to lack. For you, it's questions first, curiosity first, and barely any action. Sparring with your mother? Even that action isn't enough.

Your eyes skim the white, reinforced walls and flickering lights overhead.

You desperately want to experience the outside world, but the minute your boots touch the grass, you’re not just dead; you might be dooming your mother as well. 

Your ghostly form hovers towards the sliding doors with the book hugged to your chest. The loose, white clothing flows after your moving figure as you inch closer to where the automatic doors could slip open any moment in detection of your presence.

The ultimatum in your eyes flickers down to the relic in your arms, your veil shadowing over the worn leather.

You’ll be quick. You swear it.

The automatic doors open, and the noise of pressurized air releases. Your feet don’t touch the ground to refrain from further noise in the quarters; just because it isn’t monitored by most of the Viltrum doesn’t mean their keen senses cannot discern the shift in air and noise from the doors. 

You stare at the corridor. Pristine, white like the clothes on your body, and telling of a society that’s advanced in its achievements. 

Turning your head, you eye a certain hallway, calculating the chances of meeting another body, and honestly? The chance is high enough to increase the probability of you being dead, but still, you can excuse the alertness of possible danger due to the genes of a Viltrumite.

The silent flap of clothing touches the walls of the hallway as you hurriedly fly from wall to wall, both concealing yourself and keeping watch for a possible party rounding the corner. You stick out well enough from the worn book in your hands to the clothing obscuring your face and body, plenty of reasons to look like an enemy of the Empire. 

You cautiously peek your head out again, and you feel your face doing the same action your mother does in relief; the lax motion of her features becoming… soft? If that’s the word. You've seen it described in many ways inside the tome clutched to your chest. 

There still isn’t a person in sight, thankfully, and you’re able to see the vibrant colors of the outside world. So stark in comparison to the unsightly towers, you feel more grateful for her choosing such a flattering area to harbor you. 

Quickly, you glide towards the edge of the open entrance and hesitate, thoughts surging with the reluctance in your veins.

Once you step onto the platform, there’s no going back. Your mother, perhaps, might uphold the Viltrumite tradition and finally execute you, yet you hold onto the belief that maybe she, too, understands the emptiness that brews in the chest of remaning in solitude. Nothing but your own thoughts, and nothing but the everlasting thirst for change. 

Your feet are stepping onto the platform without you even realizing it, thoughts swirling around your mind like the robes fluttering in the wind.

“Those clothes… who are you? And what is your purpose here.”

Ah, so much for checking for more people again.

You pause at hearing the commanding voice, tensing up, and the very action solidifies your fate.

Your veil flutters as you instinctively whip your head around, only to experience a searing pain blooming across your face, as if you were punched by merely a flash of color. The book flies out of your hands as you’re sent beaming across the platform and to the flora, grass making itself home on your ruffled clothing.  

Droplets of blood splatter onto the greenery as ringing makes itself home into your ears. The figure, blurred and white, gradually steps into your doubling vision as you pant softly. You’ve never encountered such a pain—unfathomable and indescribable. It’s uncomfortable, and it throbs as the heat of red slides down your nose and lips.

Your doubling vision pieces together a white uniform and sculpted form. The male blocks out the sun as he stands tall with a hardened expression, flicking away the red staining his fingers—hair pushed back with eyes as icy as his demeanor.

“You must have not heard me. Those clothes are not of the Viltrum Empire.”

The person with the commanding presence crouches over your form and tears off the cloak and veil concealing your face and form. The dark-haired male discards the tattering and pauses.

So you are wearing clothes of the Viltrum Empire, he thinks as he observes the emblem on your chest, yet you choose to wear clothing unbecoming of a warrior. Not to mention, your body yielded to one blow.

Your body. 

The male scans it with a scowl.

Your body is disgraceful. Nothing telling of your Viltrumite strength; all he could detect was fragility and feebleness in all the wrong areas.  

His bigger form shadows yours as his fist appears in your vision while the other seizes the collar of your uniform. Upholding his duty, you're bound to get snuffed out. How could one survive so long with such shamelessness? Shamelessly being so weak.

Your eyes blearily blink for a moment from the abrupt action, but you remain limp under the male's rough handling of you. His fist nears your face, and you understand the inevitable has happened upon you. 

Naturally, your expression pulls into that same one your mother gifts you, and you couldn’t understand why she did it more than ever now. Heart steady, expression lax, and body calm—there is nothing to worry about. 

And in this moment, you no longer have to worry about being a burden to the society your race holds dear, a burden to your mother, especially after being so reckless as to be caught mere seconds after departing from your quaint sanctuary.

The male, however, halts his fist at your contorting features. 

What… is that expression?

You aren’t afraid, you aren’t angered, and you aren’t fighting back.

You’re just… silent and calm? How can one give up their fate so readily? Are you even a Viltrumite?

The stronger warrior lowers his face with a hard scowl, his voice accusing and questioning, “You remain docile—unmoving and quiet. Are you so pathetic that you readily admit defeat at the hands of anyone? Nothing, but a disgrace to the Viltrumite Empire.”

You’ve had those thoughts before, all the time. This body of yours isn’t what a Viltrumite should be.

The corners of your lips gently quirk upwards at having someone you just met, who’s so eager to snuff your life out, read your thoughts harboring within yourself in just one moment. Your expression, you know how to use the word more accurately now, becomes soft.

The warrior's eyebrows rise to his hairline at the expression, incredulous, then an inkling of rage simmers in his chest. “And with an expression like that, you attempt to goad me? I have stalled this long enough.”

The light-eyed male's fist raises again, and just as quickly as he hit you before, it collides into your nose once more. 

Your head slams into the grass as blood spurts out of your nose again. 

And the male is stumped at how malleable your body is, how malleable you are. Why aren’t you fighting back? No declaration of neutralizing him, no roar of passion, no cry of anger. It’s… annoyingly befuddling.

The ringing reemerges in your ears as more pain joins itself with spreading across your bloodied face. Stabbing, indefinable. Your eyes train in on the sky, the moving ships and freights catching your gaze as the bodies of Viltrumties flying, specks of white, blend in with the clouds.

The Viltrumite's commanding voice bleeds past the ringing. “You… are not one of Viltrum heritage. You must be exterminated.”

Just as their history has done in the past, he mentions to himself in his head, the Purge. 

“I am.”

He pauses, curious as to why you choose to speak and still haven’t stood your ground. The glaring male's hand squeezes your collar and aggressively lifts your foggy head from the ground. “Then act like it.”

Your eyes continue staring at the sky.

“I don’t know how to.”

He grits his teeth, patience running thin. “This attempt at humor is furthering your necessity of a death.”

There’s a foreign taste at the back of your tongue as blood pours out of your nose. “There is no humor,” you avert your gaze back to him, still in a daze, “I have spoken nothing but the truth.”

Your hand lifts, and he quickly prepares himself for a blow, but nearly drops your bloodied body back onto the grass from confusion. You’re reaching for the… remnants of your robes? 

He furrows his brows at your grasp, not even hurried and desperate, but languidly grabbing the fabrics. The dark-haired male pulls your face to his again with suspicion, “Do you honestly believe mer rags are-“

“My mother.”

He pauses, eyebrows furrowed, dumbfounded.

“And what… of your mother?”

You stare wordlessly into his stony eyes, your own with a small light, as blood drips down your chin. Your fingers ghost the smoothness of the veil. “My mother gifted this to me, and I haven't really handled it so roughly like you have before.”

His confusion spikes more to anger. What in Argall’s name are you saying? Your creator gifted you rags, and you value them? Why is your first instinct to speak of some woman and tatterings?

His, admittedly, attractive face sinks towards yours as his voice lowers, annoyance and fury radiating from him, “You should value your blood before fleeting materialism.”

Your eyes flutter close for a moment as the pain on your face begins to fade, “Two things… can't be done at once?”

He wants to kill you, yet you seem to be, while simultaneously not being, a Viltrumite. No true Viltrumite perceives the world in such an immature way. There is no such thing as sparing a life in this Empire, yet he ought to know if there are more like you—those who are a threat to what it means to uphold Viltrum.

All the while, you haven’t fought him back.

The annoyance in his chest is foreign; he has never experienced a hindrance of this quality for such a long time due to exterminating nuisances immediately, but that was typical if they actually fought back.

Your depths gaze silently into his eyes, waiting for the question to be answered, only to be met with another blow to the face—succumbing to gravity and flying across the grass. Droplets of blood paint the blades of grass and spray into the air as your body slams into the ground. Your grip on the veil doesn’t falter as you roll to a stop on your side, unmoving and staring at the sky.

The male slowly stalks to your still figure, teeth clenched and fists balled. You don’t assume a stance, you don’t cry out, you don’t fight back—you’re an anomaly. 

But it’s when you sit up that he gets into his own position, feet wide and hands raised.

Only to falter and slowly drop his arms at the sight of you unhurriedly sliding the veil over your face. You glance back towards him as you come to sit on your knees, your lips upturned as blood pools from both your nose and mouth.

Red plops onto the ground as his image flickers, then reappears into your vision, the quick motion sending a small ghost of air to flap your veil. Once again, you’re picked up by your collar but dragged to your feet. His nose brushes the veil as he pulls your concealed face closer to his, confusion and steaming rage decorating his tone.

“You move like no Viltrumite; you succumb to battle easily. Imagine having lived during the Purge. You-“

The veil rustles as you cut him off, “-would not have survived. Yes.”

For interrupting him, you're graced with a knee to your stomach, and you hear something crack. The male drops your hunched body as you pant softly, the pain stabbing in multiple areas. He stares down at your form—on your knees where you belong due to such blatant disrespect and defectiveness. 

The veil shields your bloodied face and pained expression. You then look up at him, arms tightly hugging your abdomen.

A thought crosses your mind.

“We have spoken so much,” you slowly raise your struggling form, “yet I haven't gotten your name.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “Those who bring down the Empire are not deserving of true strength’s name.”

Your hunched form struggles to stand upright, so unaccustomed to the searing pain. You smoothly tell him your name in passing as you stare into his eyes from beneath the cloth.

The taller male stares back, fists balled and rage, more so his irritation, running hot and through the roof. “I have no need, no desire, to know the name of such filth.”

You tilt your head at the response, then lift your arms from your pained abdomen, pulling the veil back more to reveal more of your face. The cloth sits at the apex of your hair and spills onto your shoulders, showcasing the blooming discoloration, red splayed liquid adorning your face. 

“Will I ever come to know of it? If I ever get stronger?”

The Viltrumite's brows furrow.

He wants to kill you out of annoyance rather than necessity—what kind of Viltrumite does this? Asking needless questions shamelessly as if they aren’t one clutch away from death. 

“I doubt it. Your fate had been decided with a body like that.”

You nod in agreement. The submissive action, from a self proclaimed Viltrumite, produces his brow to twitch, and he pulls back his fist to strike you again at feeling the hint of irritation, but you immediately step backwards.

Your lips grace into that smile again.

That foreign gaze, that upturn of the lips where he cannot detect hostility—his heart races from it. A vein was beginning to bulge across his knuckles from the clench of his fist. 

You need to die. 

Your lips move, lightly calling for his attention. “Viltrumite…”

Degrading is what he felt in the cadence of your tone. He scoffs. “I have a title, a name that is actually worth remembering and using.”

“Well, it wasn't used for me to remember.” You glance at his fist, still smiling, “Was it a bad thing to step back? It was instinctual. This pain is one I don't like, you see.”

His blue eyes squint, “And yet you should be grateful to understand its importance.”

You lightly hum in agreement, and he honestly doesn’t understand why he’s kept you alive for so long; every action and word from you feels both genuine and mocking—he can't decipher if it's either or. Your hunched form glances around the grassy area, then gazes back onto the platform, your book lying there.

The Viltrumite follows your gaze, then scowls. A gust of wind hits your face, and you close your eyes from it. His form flickers then reappears again, but from a distance away from you, on the platform and holding your book. He grips the leather tightly and observes its thickness, turning it over and looking at it from many angles.

The book is being manhandled just as you are, and your fingers touch the veil, seeking comfort in the fabric.

You regret the minutes passing by more and more, regret stepping outside as you slowly near his form, but you, funny enough, were treated roughly as a true Viltrumite should be as soon as you stepped outside as well. Your battered form hovers above the grass then flies next to his form, and the male tenses at the closeness when you arrive.

That mouth of yours moves again. “Would you like to read it? It reminds me of myself.”

Just from hearing those words, his fingers threaten to tear into the book, just like how they should tear into you.

Your brows furrow as you lean closer to him, glancing over the gradual tear in the leather. Your curious eyes then lift to his hardened ones.

“Would you like to read it with me?”

His eyes widen. 

No hostility, no retaliation, no venom in your words. Only curiosity and valuing his input, not just your own. The dark-haired male's grip, without him noticing, lessens on the book.

He leans his face closer to yours, the heat of his breath on your face. “Both you and this book belong with the plague that weakens the Empire: gone.”

You stare into his eyes, and he… he finds himself questioning why they look at him like that. They’re not one of a warrior, and they stare at something far past what he presents himself as. It’s an indescribable feeling that makes his heart race more—is this your power? Hidden within plain sight and easy to disarm one when they’re off guard?

He needs to kill you before you kill him, yet that thought is interrupted as your hand gently grazes the leather held in his hands. The subtle movement barely snaps him out of his stupor as he becomes more confused—why aren’t you trying to kill him?

“No one else has read it with me besides my mother,” you stare down at it silently. Your fingers brush across the creases in the leather, “I learned many things from it.”

The whirring noise of a freight passes overhead.

You raise your gaze to his, and now he finds himself stepping back, on guard to that heart-rate-inducing gaze of yours. Your hand leaves the book as you absentmindedly touch the hem of your veil in thought, “A bond.”

He pauses, guard faltering once more.

“A… a what?”

You smile at him. “You can learn it from this book too. You can read it.”

That expression. No, he doesn’t want to, nor is he stupid to not know of a bond. Whatever you read—whatever your meaning of what a bond is, along with your upbringing, resulted in this… unbecoming behavior. 

The book plops to the floor of the platform as the shadow of a freight passes over you both again, and he’s not surprised when you reach for the book instead of drawing back a fist at him.

You peek up at him through your lashes as you hug the book to your chest, and he actually feels his heart skip for just a moment—this power of yours having its effect again. He's certain fear isn't producing the change in heartbeat—he’s certain you have a power in the way your face contorts into those expressions.

You’ve already disarmed him and affected him inside out; he needs to kill-

“Would you like to read about bonds?” 

The muscular male sneers, breaking out of the spell you put over him. “I am versed in every kind of bond there is, and I have no need to learn the uselessness of unimportant ones.”

You continue gazing up at him through your lashes, and the wind flutters your veil for just a moment. 

“…I like reading about them.”

Now you’re back to being insufferable.

His mouth instinctively sighs out of annoyance from your confusing behavior. Is this how you initiate your spell, wearing out the opponent with stupidity, then using that face of yours to ensnare them?

You slowly stand up with the book to your chest, and he thinks you look better on your knees, given how pathetic you are. "I can tell you about them instead of you going through the hassle of reading them.”

Are you being dense on purpose? He’s struck you multiple times with the intent to kill, and you’re blabbering about some book he just said he’s not interested in. 

You look up at the sky, staring at the boundless blue. “There’s this one line–“

“Enough.”

The irritated male steps into your space and lowers his head, forehead nearly touching yours. “Whatever power you think can overwhelm me with, will not.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, anticipating his hand to grab your neck, but you’re only standing there wordlessly as blue pierces your eyes. Ice blue, very cold like his demeanor—or the forced character placed onto every Viltrumite. 

“But," you bring up his earlier input and stark fact, "I'm weak-“

His nose touches yours as his eyes squint, tension coiled in his muscles, “Yet I easily become susceptible to your drivel and have entertained your words longer than I have any other Viltrumite.”

For some reason, that not only brings a smile to your face, but also a small noise of humor. You hide it behind the book, and it looks as if he’s been slapped after hearing the giggle. 

He wants to be angry, but the lilt and expression tell him your noise of amusement wasn’t mocking. There was nothing humorous about what he said. 

Your eyes squint from above the book as you repeat his wording. “I have outlived those stronger than me, yet I'm the weakest of our race… ironic.”

He huffs as he steps back.

“The weakness you present seems to be nothing but a front.”

“It's not.”

The response does have good credibility; not once did you lift your hands in retaliation, nor boast about strength being on your side. Although that doesn’t explain why his chest was so affected that he was actually hesitating.

He doesn't avert his gaze and holds his ground. “Yet internally, you seem to ensnare me somehow.”

You pause, lowering the book from your lips. Your brow raises as you absentmindedly fiddle with your veil. “Internally…?”

His eye twitches; your denseness must be intentional. Your words trail off as if you aren’t aware of how you covertly affect him without breaking character—it’s infuriating.

The male crosses his arms.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

You stare at him, becoming more curious, observing his body—both physique and language.

“…so have I angered you?”

He pinches the skin between his brows—what kind of question is that? A vein bulges from his clenched jaw. Why, just why, has he not painted your innards along the ground? You speak as if there’s no consequence for insolence.

Now, questions are running through his mind, each one more baffling than the last for a Viltrumite to ever ponder. Even the children of Viltrum have more decorum than you.

The shadow of another ship passes above you two.

“Yes, you have.”

His voice is tense as you stare at one another.

“I apologize then.”

What?

The taller male's voice lessens its stern lilt, curiosity decorating it just like your natural tone. “And for what reason do you have to apologize for?”

Your unblemished fingers skim the dried blood on your face as you stare into his eyes, “For not being what a Viltrumite should be. I know you’re going against the rules for leaving me alive for so long.”

He stares back at you as his arms fall to his sides, observing you. You speak too much, but you’re not stupid. You just don’t seem to comprehend when and where those questions should be asked or, more so, who is deserving of asking such questions—because you certainly aren't.

You return the stare silently, eyes unexplainable yet relaxed and awaiting with that unarming expression on your face. The longer he stares and doesn't respond, the more he feels the halting sensation burrowing in his chest again.

He averts his gaze, no longer holding his ground. “And so you apologize rather than taking your life?”

You tilt your head, pondering. “I never thought about dying by my own hand.”

The stronger male figures that; you seem more taken with a book and running your mouth rather than using your hands.

He walks past you as he continues the conversation, “It is the warrior's way of death.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder, “But what can I expect from a being that belongs to the insects that buries themselves into the dirt?”

He averts his gaze towards the boundless blue overhead, eyes scanning the people of Viltrum in the skies. “The only notable thing about you is your creeping effect that I can’t explain."

The Viltrumite pauses, remembering the uncomfortable sensation that, admittedly, left him nearly breathless as his heart rate increased. "...Utilize that in battles more.”

And with that, you’re nearly blown back from the powerful force of his departure—a loud boom and slice into the air. His soaring form joins the others in the sky.

Astounding; you had a near-death experience with a true Viltrumite and came out alive without raising a single finger. The pads of your fingers continue grazing the blood on your face as you examine the area in thought. The remnants of your torn cloak paint the grass, and you sigh. You walk around the grass, starting the process of gathering the pieces.

Soon, you’re gonna also have to do something about the dried blood on your face.

the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.

you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.

it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.

and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.

on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.

the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.

his eyes were purple.

and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.

that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.

most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.

but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.

you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.

the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.

“um—” you stammered. “can i…”

you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.

‘i remembered your order.’

you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.

“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”

he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.

‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’

your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”

he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.

“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”

he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.

‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’

your cheeks flushed pink.

“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”

the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.

and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.

“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.

your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.

but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.

‘you know sign language?’

“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”

he quickly nodded.

‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’

you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.

“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”

he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.

‘how’s learning it overall?’

“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”

he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.

toge pointed to your seat.

“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.

“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”

he laughed a little and nodded.

“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.

he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.

‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’

“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.

your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.

“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”

he smiled and wrote.

‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’

your eyes snapped up to his.

“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”

‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’

you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.

“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”

he turned his board around.

‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’

you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.

‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’

“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”

he laughed and gave you a look.

‘you’re silly. just show me.’

you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.

“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.

toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.

‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’

“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”

he nodded with a gleam in his eye.

‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”

his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’

you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.

“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”

he was so nice.

and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.

‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’

you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.

that nickname stuck.

“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.

unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.

and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.

was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?

was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?

and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.

toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.

but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.

“hi toge!”

he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.

“y/n!—”

he spoke.

toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.

he said your name.

“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”

he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.

‘where the fuck have you been?’

you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.

“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”

you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”

he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.

‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.

and surprise crossed your face.

“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”

you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’

“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”

toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.

your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”

he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.

‘cry? why?’

“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”

‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’

you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.

toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.

but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.

you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.

“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”

he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.

‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’

you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.

“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.

toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.

‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’

“what?” you asked curiously.

he wrote.

‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’

“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”

he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.

‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’

and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.

“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.

he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.

“i failed my sign language midterm.”

toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.

“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”

he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.

“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.

‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’

“and how do you know.” you grumbled.

‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’

you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.

he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.

‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’

a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.

“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”

his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.

“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.

his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.

“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”

he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.

‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’

you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”

he smiled and looked down to write.

‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’

your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”

he slowly nodded.

“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”

you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.

‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’

you tilted your head. “streaming..?”

he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.

‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’

you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”

an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.

‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’

“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.

“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”

he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.

for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.

but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.

you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.

your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.

‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’

and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.

toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.

but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.

now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.

and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.

(toge :D): MOUSE

(toge :D): MOUSE

your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.

(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE

(you): YES <3

(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P

you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.

(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!

(toge :D): YOOOOO

(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow

(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy

(toge :D): a big shiny cock

(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK

(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY

you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.

(toge :D): …please still come over

(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P

(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE

(you): LMFAAOOO

(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir

(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3

(toge :D): NO

(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees

(toge :D): i’m begging

(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work

(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want

(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW

(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY

(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE

you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.

(you): coming!! <33

(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P

the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.

“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”

he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.

‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.

“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”

you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.

“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”

he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.

‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.

“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”

he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.

“nuh uh.” you shook your head.

toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.

you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.

“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”

he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.

he showed you.

‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’

or because he’s in love with you. either or.

you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”

he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.

“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”

he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.

‘i can stream later tonight—’

he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.

‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’

you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.

“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”

he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.

‘why not?’ he signed.

“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.

‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’

you snickered.

“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”

toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.

‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’

you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.

“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”

he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.

but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.

and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.

you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.

so did that mean he loved you too?

“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.

he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.

you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.

“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”

he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.

‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.

“nevermind! it’s okay.”

he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

fuck.

okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.

“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”

he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.

fuck!

no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—

‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.

he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.

by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.

and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.

but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?

cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.

you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.

‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘

pretty.

“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”

he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.

“toge—”

he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.

“nevermind nevermind—”

his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.

‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’

“no.”

‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’

“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”

he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.

toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.

that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.

you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.

and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.

but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.

so he tried to compromise.

there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?

except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.

and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.

but toge was still freaking selfish.

because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—

made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.

“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.

he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.

your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.

if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—

“i love you.” you told him.

toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.

“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”

he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.

“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”

and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.

“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”

toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.

except he technically wasn’t… yet…

even when three full weeks had passed.

you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.

and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.

that was the next compromise he made.

if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.

well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.

“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.

‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’

“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”

he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.

“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.

toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.

“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”

he smiled softly.

‘when?’ toge signed.

“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.

he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.

‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’

you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”

he erased and wrote again.

‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’

“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”

he snorted, shaking his head.

‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’

“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”

you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”

he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.

the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.

he let go of your wrists to write.

‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’

you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.

“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”

toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.

‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’

you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.

“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.

toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.

‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.

and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.

and maybe he could.

maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.

just once.

“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.

but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?

he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.

“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”

his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.

‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.

your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.

“under my pillow?”

he nodded, pointing.

you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.

a ring.

you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.

he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.

‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’

you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.

“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”

he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.

‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’

you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.

he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.

‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’

you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.

your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.

each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.

you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—

‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’

“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.

toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.

he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.

‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.

you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.

‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.

he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.

“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.

“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”

his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.

toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.

“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.

you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.

toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.

“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”

with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.

“oh my god oh my god—”

toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.

but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.

toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.

you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.

“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”

he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.

you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.

his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.

toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.

‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.

and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?

toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.

horrendous.

it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.

except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.

toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.

he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.

but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.

and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…

but he really needed it.

(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL

“inumaki.”

toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.

there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.

“did you lock up last night?”

toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.

“everything?”

he went to nod again, but stopped.

he did… he did truly he did—

…oh.

he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.

toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.

he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.

“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”

toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.

‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’

his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.

“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”

toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.

“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”

toge looked at him.

“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”

toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.

‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’

his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”

softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.

regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.

you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.

and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.

“toge?”

he looked up.

“what happened?”

his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.

you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”

he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.

‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’

“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”

toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.

‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’

“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”

he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you smiled and looked around.

“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”

he hummed in agreement.

toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.

sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.

and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.

“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.

but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.

no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.

and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.

but toge was still blaming himself.

why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.

so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.

“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”

he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.

“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”

his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.

you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.

the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.

“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”

your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.

“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”

your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”

toge quirked a brow.

“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”

he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”

“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”

your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.

toge nudged you gently and you turned.

‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.

“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”

he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.

“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”

toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.

oh shit.

toge pointed to his cup.

“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”

oh fuck.

why couldn’t he just talk?

the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.

“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”

she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.

toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.

or so he thought.

because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.

that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.

not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.

his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.

toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.

and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.

toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.

“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”

“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.

well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—

your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.

…no?

your brows furrowed.

“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”

toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.

“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.

“no?” you repeated to him.

‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.

“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.

he looked at you sadly.

‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.

“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”

‘i can’t give you what you need.’

“what i need?”

he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’

“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”

‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’

“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”

you couldn’t understand him.

and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.

he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.

toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.

you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.

(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry

your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.

“what the fuck do you mean.”

his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.

(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.

you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.

he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?

you felt fucking used.

“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”

you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”

god this is everything he wants.

but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.

you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”

toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.

holy fucking shit.

how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?

but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.

“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”

toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.

“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”

he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.

“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”

you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.

“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”

oh he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.

“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”

you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.

he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.

“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”

the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.

he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.

“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.

toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.

even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.

he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.

and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.

his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.

and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.

his little mouse.

and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.

you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.

after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.

there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.

so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.

(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.

toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.

(toge): yes of course

(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come

(toge): and you’re never a bother

you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.

(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.

toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.

you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.

you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.

and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.

“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”

you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.

‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’

you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.

“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”

he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.

he couldn’t let you leave.

because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.

toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.

“what toge—”

‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’

you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”

toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.

you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.

(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.

what?

he sent another message.

(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.

(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.

you cried still and he typed again.

(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.

“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.

“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.

but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.

and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.

toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.

you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.

“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.

“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”

you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.

“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”

toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.

he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.

“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.

‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’

you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.

and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?

you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.

and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.

silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.

you.

his little mouse.

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the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.

you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.

it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.

and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.

on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.

the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.

his eyes were purple.

and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.

that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.

most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.

but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.

you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.

the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.

“um—” you stammered. “can i…”

you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.

‘i remembered your order.’

you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.

“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”

he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.

‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’

your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”

he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.

“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”

he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.

‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’

your cheeks flushed pink.

“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”

the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.

and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.

“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.

your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.

but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.

‘you know sign language?’

“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”

he quickly nodded.

‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’

you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.

“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”

he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.

‘how’s learning it overall?’

“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”

he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.

toge pointed to your seat.

“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.

“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”

he laughed a little and nodded.

“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.

he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.

‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’

“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.

your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.

“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”

he smiled and wrote.

‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’

your eyes snapped up to his.

“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”

‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’

you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.

“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”

he turned his board around.

‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’

you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.

‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’

“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”

he laughed and gave you a look.

‘you’re silly. just show me.’

you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.

“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.

toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.

‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’

“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”

he nodded with a gleam in his eye.

‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”

his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’

you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.

“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”

he was so nice.

and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.

‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’

you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.

that nickname stuck.

“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.

unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.

and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.

was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?

was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?

and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.

toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.

but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.

“hi toge!”

he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.

“y/n!—”

he spoke.

toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.

he said your name.

“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”

he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.

‘where the fuck have you been?’

you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.

“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”

you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”

he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.

‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.

and surprise crossed your face.

“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”

you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’

“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”

toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.

your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”

he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.

‘cry? why?’

“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”

‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’

you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.

toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.

but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.

you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.

“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”

he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.

‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’

you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.

“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.

toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.

‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’

“what?” you asked curiously.

he wrote.

‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’

“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”

he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.

‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’

and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.

“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.

he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.

“i failed my sign language midterm.”

toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.

“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”

he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.

“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.

‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’

“and how do you know.” you grumbled.

‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’

you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.

he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.

‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’

a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.

“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”

his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.

“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.

his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.

“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”

he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.

‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’

you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”

he smiled and looked down to write.

‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’

your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”

he slowly nodded.

“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”

you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.

‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’

you tilted your head. “streaming..?”

he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.

‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’

you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”

an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.

‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’

“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.

“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”

he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.

for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.

but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.

you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.

your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.

‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’

and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.

toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.

but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.

now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.

and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.

(toge :D): MOUSE

(toge :D): MOUSE

your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.

(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE

(you): YES <3

(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P

you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.

(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!

(toge :D): YOOOOO

(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow

(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy

(toge :D): a big shiny cock

(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK

(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY

you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.

(toge :D): …please still come over

(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P

(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE

(you): LMFAAOOO

(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir

(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3

(toge :D): NO

(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees

(toge :D): i’m begging

(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work

(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want

(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW

(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY

(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE

you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.

(you): coming!! <33

(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P

the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.

“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”

he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.

‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.

“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”

you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.

“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”

he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.

‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.

“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”

he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.

“nuh uh.” you shook your head.

toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.

you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.

“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”

he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.

he showed you.

‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’

or because he’s in love with you. either or.

you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”

he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.

“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”

he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.

‘i can stream later tonight—’

he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.

‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’

you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.

“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”

he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.

‘why not?’ he signed.

“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.

‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’

you snickered.

“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”

toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.

‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’

you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.

“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”

he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.

but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.

and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.

you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.

so did that mean he loved you too?

“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.

he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.

you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.

“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”

he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.

‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.

“nevermind! it’s okay.”

he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

fuck.

okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.

“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”

he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.

fuck!

no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—

‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.

he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.

by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.

and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.

but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?

cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.

you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.

‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘

pretty.

“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”

he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.

“toge—”

he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.

“nevermind nevermind—”

his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.

‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’

“no.”

‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’

“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”

he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.

toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.

that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.

you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.

and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.

but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.

so he tried to compromise.

there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?

except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.

and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.

but toge was still freaking selfish.

because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—

made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.

“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.

he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.

your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.

if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—

“i love you.” you told him.

toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.

“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”

he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.

“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”

and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.

“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”

toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.

except he technically wasn’t… yet…

even when three full weeks had passed.

you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.

and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.

that was the next compromise he made.

if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.

well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.

“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.

‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’

“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”

he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.

“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.

toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.

“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”

he smiled softly.

‘when?’ toge signed.

“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.

he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.

‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’

you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”

he erased and wrote again.

‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’

“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”

he snorted, shaking his head.

‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’

“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”

you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”

he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.

the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.

he let go of your wrists to write.

‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’

you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.

“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”

toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.

‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’

you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.

“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.

toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.

‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.

and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.

and maybe he could.

maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.

just once.

“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.

but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?

he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.

“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”

his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.

‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.

your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.

“under my pillow?”

he nodded, pointing.

you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.

a ring.

you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.

he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.

‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’

you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.

“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”

he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.

‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’

you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.

he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.

‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’

you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.

your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.

each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.

you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—

‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’

“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.

toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.

he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.

‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.

you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.

‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.

he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.

“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.

“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”

his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.

toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.

“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.

you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.

toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.

“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”

with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.

“oh my god oh my god—”

toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.

but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.

toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.

you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.

“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”

he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.

you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.

his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.

toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.

‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.

and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?

toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.

horrendous.

it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.

except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.

toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.

he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.

but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.

and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…

but he really needed it.

(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL

“inumaki.”

toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.

there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.

“did you lock up last night?”

toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.

“everything?”

he went to nod again, but stopped.

he did… he did truly he did—

…oh.

he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.

toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.

he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.

“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”

toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.

‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’

his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.

“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”

toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.

“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”

toge looked at him.

“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”

toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.

‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’

his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”

softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.

regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.

you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.

and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.

“toge?”

he looked up.

“what happened?”

his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.

you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”

he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.

‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’

“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”

toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.

‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’

“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”

he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you smiled and looked around.

“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”

he hummed in agreement.

toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.

sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.

and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.

“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.

but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.

no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.

and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.

but toge was still blaming himself.

why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.

so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.

“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”

he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.

“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”

his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.

you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.

the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.

“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”

your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.

“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”

your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”

toge quirked a brow.

“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”

he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”

“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”

your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.

toge nudged you gently and you turned.

‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.

“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”

he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.

“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”

toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.

oh shit.

toge pointed to his cup.

“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”

oh fuck.

why couldn’t he just talk?

the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.

“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”

she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.

toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.

or so he thought.

because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.

that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.

not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.

his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.

toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.

and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.

toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.

“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”

“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.

well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—

your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.

…no?

your brows furrowed.

“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”

toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.

“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.

“no?” you repeated to him.

‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.

“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.

he looked at you sadly.

‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.

“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”

‘i can’t give you what you need.’

“what i need?”

he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’

“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”

‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’

“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”

you couldn’t understand him.

and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.

he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.

toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.

you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.

(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry

your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.

“what the fuck do you mean.”

his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.

(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.

you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.

he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?

you felt fucking used.

“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”

you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”

god this is everything he wants.

but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.

you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”

toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.

holy fucking shit.

how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?

but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.

“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”

toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.

“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”

he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.

“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”

you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.

“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”

oh he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.

“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”

you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.

he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.

“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”

the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.

he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.

“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.

toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.

even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.

he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.

and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.

his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.

and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.

his little mouse.

and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.

you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.

after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.

there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.

so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.

(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.

toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.

(toge): yes of course

(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come

(toge): and you’re never a bother

you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.

(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.

toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.

you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.

you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.

and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.

“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”

you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.

‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’

you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.

“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”

he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.

he couldn’t let you leave.

because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.

toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.

“what toge—”

‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’

you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”

toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.

you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.

(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.

what?

he sent another message.

(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.

(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.

you cried still and he typed again.

(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.

“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.

“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.

but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.

and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.

toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.

you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.

“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.

“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”

you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.

“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”

toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.

he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.

“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.

‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’

you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.

and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?

you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.

and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.

silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.

you.

his little mouse.

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And deep down, you know it. You that is exactly what you are doing when you are first plowed with that nauseating, neverending, persistent feeling that eats away at your heart and poisons your mind, the feeling that first makes you stop and think, obsess over your insecurities, and question whether you really are good enough.

You know when you feel envy strike, when a sickening sense of inferiority crowds you in the shadow of that woman's loss against your best efforts, against your wishes.

You know it when suddenly you think that Toji's kisses have gone colder, that his eyes have shifted into darkness when you are around, that his mind is elsewhere when he is physically with you. You know it when that air of breeziness falls, and the honeymoon period of feeling as though you are floating gives away. You come crashing back to the ground, back into the land of doubt, the land of fear, the land of inadequacy.

And you know it's you, and only you, because Toji has never given you any reason to second guess his motives or his true feelings within your relationship.

The man had been so guarded when you first met him. He shoved you away enough times for you to learn that when he eventually let his guard down, it is not because he does not take you seriously but because he does, painfully and scarily so. It tore him apart so much to finally reveal himself to you that your self destructive habits fell by the wayside, and true love overpowered - a desire to help him, to open his eyes to the world that he can and does deserve.

Toji has only ever loved you. He has only ever cherished you like you could vanish into thin air at any second, loving you as if every day he has you is his last, never, ever risking the chance of taking you for granted. How could he, when you've become everything to him after he had been so lost for so long? After you brought reason, light, joy, and hope back into his life?

You know Toji loves you. You feel it. You see it.

But the fears come back regardless, so natural to you, you're surprised that they had even left. A shift in tone, an unanswered text, a fleeting kiss are all enough to send the first trigger shooting through your brain.

Then comes a lingering gaze on an old family picture with his ex that Toji forgot he had swimming in the caverns of his camera roll, swiftly swiped past with a blink back to reality.

It's all enough to set your mind off, to provoke the voices that roar in your head that you are not loved, but rather, a mere replacement. A placeholder. An empty husk serving in the space where someone used to be, someone who would be there still if cruel life had not stripped her from this world.

You begin to subconsciously compare yourself to her at every chance your mind gets to torture you. You begin to stare longer at the family picture that still sits on Megumi's window sill, to trace the counters in a daze, wondering if it was her who picked the marble finish in the kitchen - as you know Toji is not the kind of man who pays such things attention. You fall silent as your mind rages, absolving you of your speech, and twisting it into a curse upon your subconscious.

You think. You think. And think until it physically aches to do so, but no matter how much it hurts, you can not stop it. You can not shut it out. You can not make your thoughts go away. They simply expand, grow worse by the day, and if the questions were not already bad, the guilt that swarms you is ten times worse.

How could you obsess so much over a dead woman? Someone who is not even alive anymore? Someone whom this household you have weasled your way into lingers in the unspoken, in the air, behind the corners you turn, in the whistle of a kettle, in the eyes of his son, in the spaces you fill?

Its not right to think of her in such a way. To tarnish her memory by selfishly clinging onto this image that you could never truly know, to disgrace Toji's grief and his devotion to you by swearing that he could only ever love her, that it is not you he loves but the projection of her that he has utilized you for.

It's insane. You know it is. But you can not help it. You've never loved someone like this, nor have you ever loved someone who had not become single on his own accord but by force, by fate. As you sink into comfort, your mind awakes in alert. Its faith and belief in the reality of things slip away, and you are stuck believing lies, believing that you are not good enough, believing that a ghost would serve better in your place.

You've seen the pictures of Megumi's mother. She was radiant and beautiful, effortlessly so. You see the same softness in Megumi's eyes that she once had, and you wonder what Toji thinks every time he looks at the boy, if he has to push down the ache that stems from their striking similarities.

You find yourself looking in the morning and picking at your face, frowning at the reflection that stares back at you. You don't have here wild, raven hair, her smooth, perfect skin. You don't have whatever effect she had that drew Toji to her in the first place, that made him fall so deeply in love that when she faded away, he lost all sense of purpose.

You aren''t her. You could never be her, and you wonder how Toji bears to look at you. How he turns to you and smiles when you know deep down what he really wants, who he really yearns for, who you decide he imagines you to be.

You lay awake at night as he snores in your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, and you wonder if he ever held her the same way. With one leg kicked up over your hips, his hands clutching you tight to his chest.

You wonder every night... is he dreaming of her? Do you really even exist to him if he only thinks of you as another version of her?

The fake version? The temporary?

You don't know when the last time it was when you got a full night's rest. You spend your evenings curled in his arms, staring at the ceiling with dark shadows under your eyes, lips clamped tight. As the second you close your eyes, the voices shout and steal any hope of sleep from you.

He doesn't really love you. You know that right?

He's only sleeping so well because he's pretending its her instead of you.

How could you ever think that he would love you after losing such a woman?

How could you even begin to compete with her?

And after a while, after enough self deprecation, after enough sleepless nights, you begin to subconsciously distance yourself from Toji. Not physically, but mentally.

When he kisses you, lips meeting your cheek in greeting, you shrink into your mind, body stilling as though you are a deer in headlights, eyes sharp and wide, lips clamped. Your voice has gone quieter - no longer lively and engaging but monotonous, timid, and almost cautious. Like you're afraid to be in his house. Like you are apologetic for your own presence.

You slip into a depression quite easily, and you don’t even think that Fushiguros realize, as you’re so distracted by your own thoughts. Why would they notice after all? It’s not like you’re Toji’s wife, nor are you Megumi or Tsumiki’s mother. Your emotions would likely just prove a further burden to them. After all, they lost so much when Megumi’s mother passed. You would only be further adding to such stress.

Yet, despite how you spiral into a pit of isolation, they do notice. Almost immediately, actually. It would be difficult to have ignored it. You display such a swift, drastic decline from your ordinarily bright and positive nature. And it worries the kids. It worries Toji.

Badly.

At first, he thinks he’s done something wrong when he notices you freeze at the slightest tough. Perhpaps, as usual, he's screwed up. He's said something stupid without thinking to hurt your feelings. But ordinarily, when you're upset with him, you let him know immediately. You don't go quiet, but in fact, you get loud. You challenge him, and despite his stubborness, he is forced to look within and rethink his actions.

You help him be better in that way.

So he rethinks it, but can not for the life of him understand what has happened, what's gone wrong. Do you resent him now? Have you lost all feelings for him? Has he made you feel trapped?

When he asks, you won't say. You'll simply flash him a smile that does not reach your eyes and tell him that you're fine. Despite the painful softness of your voice when you do that seems to pierce Toji straight through the heart, further emphasizing your lie. Despite that dark circles that run under your eyes, insinuating that you no longer sleep soundly with him at night. Despite the weight that appears to be sinking into your body, pulling your eyeline to the ground, dragging at your feet.

It's killing Toji, whatever is wrong with you, and it takes him a while to think that you could possibly dealing with something deeper that he can not understand. Some underlying darkness, a depression, perhaps, that has snuck back into your life now that you have settled into a new routine, a new happiness.

He never believed in the kind of stuff before. Not even when he was experiencing it himself after his wife's death. When his life veered off track and he no longer knew who he was. When killing became the only thing he felt he could do right in this world.

He didn't even realize that was what depression felt like until, of course, you. Until you opened his eyes to how bad his life had been when you miraculously made it better.

He decides that depression is certainly the problem when he comes home more often to you already laying in bed or staring off into space, in some far off world in your mind, separate from reality. The only two questions that remain are what triggered such an abrupt episode, if anything, and how could he help you out of it?

Or... more so... could he help you?

Toji worries in silent, active ways. He asks more questions, though casually, subtly, and sporadically. He'll ask more details about your day when he gets home from work, he'll suggest grabbing take out if he notices the food in the fridge still untouched by you. He'll grip you tighter in his sleep, waiting to doze just to see how long you'll stay awake as you pretend to be asleep with your back pressed to his chest and his fingers tracing light circles in your abdomen.

You notice the mindless habit as something new, and begin to wonder if he's catching onto you.

His embraces are longer in the mornings, when he prepares to leave for a job. His hands linger on your skin as he makes his way to the door, his eyes catching you a number of times before the door closes and separates you, and you are left alone once more with your thoughts.

His kisses are softer, more tender, more cautious.

You can feel him growing wearier, more hesitant. And while this is due to Toji's uncertainty with how to approach you or make sure you're okay without further upsetting you, you only take his behavior as a further sign of his rejection of you. Of his true feelings finally showing.

It's yet another sleepless night at Toji's.

Despite your daily struggle to stomach being in this home, surrounded by so many memories of a woman you never met, you can't find the strength to go anywhere else. This is your home now, after all. You're a part of the family, of the house, of the life that should be hers, not yours. Though you want to leave with all your heart, she's keeping you here, the impossible standard, the first choice. You almost tell yourself that you deserve this feeling, that you would be a coward to run away from such harsh reality.

You have a blanket from the couch wrapped snug around your body, cocooning you as you shrug a lukewarm cup of coffee to your lips. The house is still, everyone but you asleep, and it took a significant amount of shuffling to manage to rise from the bed without waking your boyfriend. Though he's a deep sleeper, the second he feels you moving to even go to the bathroom, he's awake.

Hell, you're surprised you managed to get away this time. Maybe that's another sign of Toji's growing disconnect from you.

Your eyes sting when you blink. Your skin is cold despite the warmth that captures you, and your mind does not rest, so you give into the insomnia and trek across the floors that she once padded over with barefeet, wondering if yours are the same size, if you could somehow begin to fill those prints.

You feel as though you've internally begun to break up with Toji without trying. It feels like you're in a constant state of mourning, as though the man you love is not still right there before you - yours.

But how could he really be yours when he belongs to someone else?

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you do not feel Toji's presence at the corner. He does not make himself known, as his remarkable skills of stealth are put to use as to keep himself hidden from you until he decides to step into the light.

The dark haired man is quiet as he watches you, your back to him and your shoulders tense. When he surveys you more carefully, closer, he notices the tremble in your hands that sends tremors throughout the liquid in your mug.

Toji's eyes are half open, his hair is ruffled to hell, and his pants hang low on his hips as he stares at you. He woke the moment you moved out of bed, but waited to follow you to reduce suspicion. He wanted to know where you were running off to without alarming you further into isolation.

And now that he sees that you are just standing in his kitchen alone and motionless, he feels his chest tighten with something he can not name. He looks at you like you're a mirror, a reflection of his past self, and the notion only spirals him into further concern.

Toji always swears to protect you, to keep you and his kids safe from physical harm. It was the physical that took his first love away, and Toji refuses to let that happen again. Not with you. Not with the woman he intends to spend the rest of his life with.

He fears now, however, that he can not protect you from the mental dangers. The traumas, the internal voids, the voices in your head that ring without stop like an out of tune church bell.

The corners of Toji's lips tug downward and the side of his head knocks agains the wall. Why are you so unhappy? Is it him? Is he making you unhappy? Is he turning your relationship sour? How? Why? What can he do? Why does he feel so useless?

As if on its own, as if drawn to you, urged by a need to fix whatever is wrong, his body pushes himself away from the wall and inches forward mutely. He steps slowly into the space, closer to you. His brows are tugged together and there is a slight curl on his lips, one you mistake for disgust when you catch his shadow creeping up from out of the corner of your eye.

You startle, hastily setting your cup of coffee down on the counter as your eyes nervously catch the ivy hues that gaze down at you through the dimness. You turn to face him fully, leaning your hip against the counter as you instinctively pull your lips together in a halfhearted, tight line Toji thinks you'd call a smile.

"Toji," you say his name like you don't expect him to find you in his own home, like you're surprised that he would ever come after you. Which makes no sense to the assassin, who would jump from moving cars to get to you. "Hey, I'm sorry. I was trying to be quiet."

And you're apologizing. Again. Like your existence is a nuissance. Like you can't bear for your own boyfriend to perceive you in this light, or in any light for that matter.

It's tearing the man apart.

In a sleepy daze, Toji reachs a calloused hand out to your face once he settles a few feet before you. He's experimenting, testing the space and how much you allow between the two of you before you shrink away.

You hold Toji's gaze as his fingers graze your cheek, but it feels like you're staring through him rather than at him. Your eyes are empty. Cold. Exhausted.

The ivy eyed man tilts his head as he observes you quietly, sternly, and that's when you shift in the slightest. You switch weight on either foot, and your chin twitches down within a fraction of a second as his hand melts over your cheek and his gaze intensifies.

You feel him trying to pick you apart. What is it he's looking at? The flaws in your face? How strikingly different you are from his ex wife? Is he noticing up close now? How you'll never compare?

You expect some kind of insult to tumble from his lips every time he looks at you in such away. But you have become blind to the gentleness in his eyes when your vision greets him, soft and sweet. You no longer see the depths of love under layers of hardness, and the worry that so evidently swirls in his sharp irises that he attempts to stabilize with a blank expression.

You don't see anything but your own inadecuacy anymore.

So when his gravelly voice rasps out the obvious question: "Couldn't sleep?" you are even more confused, immediately searching for the hiding meaning in such an ordinary ask.

You take a moment to respond, like you've forgotten how to hold a conversation. You glance at the oven light and see that the time reads 3:32 am. Toji hates being up so late, especially when he has a big job in the morning.

Here you go, causing him even more problems. You're such a burden. You're sure his wife never would have posed him such inconvenience.

"Huh?"

You realize you've waited too long to say anything. You snap your eyes back to his like a deer in headlights and nod slowly. "Was just thirsty," you say.

He quirks a brow, eyes dragging down to your mug. "For the one thing that'll keep you up all night?"

You tug your blanket closer around your arms. "I just... didn't think I would be going to bed any time soon."

Something shifts in Toji's eyes as his hand falls from your face. He steps closer to you, watching your eyes dart between his feet and his face momentarily. Jesus, it's like you're afraid of him or something. You never have been before. So what's the problem now?

"Not going back to bed," he repeats your words, linking his pink finger around the mug handle and sliding it toward him. "Well, darlin', we both got work and the kids got school in a couple hours. I don't think y're getting away with another night of no sleep."

Toji abandons the cup to open his arms to you, bringing one arm around your shoulder to gently guide you to him. He feels your shoulder tense as you step into motion like a zombie, and he looks down at you out of the corner of his eye.

You don't look at him. You just stare.

The embony haired assassin stops, the two of you in the hall leading toward your shared bedroom. You blink in confusion and look up at your boyfriend as he steps out of your way, gesturing his arm forward for you to walk back in before him. You turn to look longingly back at the kitchen before trudging back into your room wordlessly, clinging tight to that blanket as Toji shuts the door behind you.

"(Y/n)," he calls your name, and you freeze in your tracks. Your nerves shock, your heart skips a beat, and you slowly turn over your shoulder, anxious, timid. God, it's so unlike you.

Toji leans against the door with a heavy exhale, watching you with that sharpness only a man trained to murder could withhold. He crosses his arms, frowning.

"You gonna tell me what's been goin' on with you or am I gonna have to get it out of you myself?"

You pale at the steadiness of his voice, the words that followed, and that dead serious look in your eye. You always imagined this moment, but could never prepare for it properly. Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. You're embarrassed. Vulnerable. Scared. Sad.

The very thought of even trying to tell him what's going on inside your mind chokes you up, for what the hell would he even say to you obsessing over his dead wife? What if he drops his facade of loving you and admits the truth? What if he sneers down at you, shaming you for all that you can not be for him and his kids? What if he leaves you?

You're paralyzed with horror, so uncertain of everything. Toji notices the way your body stiffens like some kind of defense mechanism, and it dawns on him that you are possibly shifting into fight or flight mode.

...How could he have let things get so bad?

He tilts his head, softening his voice into a mumble. "Doll?" your delicate nickname flutters from his tongue into the emptiness of your bedroom, and your heart aches. The nickname addresses you, but you hear its distant ring, its call to its rightful owner, its past life - sweet on someone else's ears before you.

His frown deepens as you shrink further into yourself without any words, but with just a particular look in your eye that makes Toji's bones ache.

He kicks himself up from the door and moves toward you. You take an involuntary step back, and he halts. As if burned.

You see that his face contort when he notices, and you curse yourself. He looks like you just threw fire at him.

"S-Sorry."

"Are you scared of me?"

The question settles into the air, raw with passion, a hiss, a torn whisper, and you hear your heart break. The spell around you shatters for a moment as Toji looks at you so perplexed, wounded in a way that he would only show you, plain in a veil of frustration.

You're shocked by it.

"What?"

"Don't act confused, like you haven't been jumping away any time I'm near you lately." The space between the two of you is thick in the air. You feel so far away, despite being closed within the same space. "Is it me? You don't like how I make you feel? Is that it?"

You know Toji so well. Even as his tone echoes monotonously and somewhat condescending, you can hear the underlying pain in those sentences.

"Are ya quiet because that's it? I'm right?"

"No," you finally say hastily. You see Toji's shoulders relax a bit, though his guard has gone up slightly from the sentiment. You can't believe that he would ever think something like that, that you could actually ever be scared of him. "Of course not, Toji. I could never be afraid of you. Do you hear what you're asking?"

And Toji hears the first semblances of passion in your voice after months of colorlessness, and despite the weight of the conversation topic, hope strikes - gentle and refrained.

"Hell, girl, you're not giving me much else to think," he admits. "It feels like you've been hating me lately."

"Why would I hate you, Toji?"

"You tell me. Y're pullin' away when I kiss you, you're flinching around me like I'm gonna break you, we haven't had sex in weeks -"

"I haven't been feeling well," you interject, not wanting to hear more about how you've been subconsciously treating him.

Toji presses his lips together, scar creasing. "I know. That's why I'm asking now what's wrong with you."

"...Because you want to have sex?"

"The fuck (Y/n)? No. 'Cause I care about you and I wanna get to the bottom of whatever this is." He squints his eyes at you as you reel back slightly.

"Oh," is all you say.

"See, it's shit like that," he murmurs. "I must've done something to make you act this way around me."

You sigh heavily. "No, Toji, you didn't. Really."

"But it's something."

"I..." that image of Megumi's mother on his window sill flashes through your head and you twitch. "It's not you."

You get a far off look in your eye before turning your gaze away. "Then what is it, doll? Huh? You sad? Did something happen?"

"I dunno, Toji. It's nothing," you exhale, turning around to face your bed. You stare at the tussled sheets as your lips tug downward, heart heavy, and a lump forming in your throat. "Let's just go back to sleep."

"You're not going to sleep. You'll be up for hours."

"No I won't."

Toji moves over to you as you start to climb back onto the bed. "What are you lying for?"

"I'm not lying," your voice drops as you clamber up, crossing your legs to sit on the edge of the comforter as Toji stands directly before you, looming over, staring down.

"You take me for some kind of idiot?" he scoffs. "I know you."

"I'm fine, Toji. Really. I - I'm just tired. Can we please," you nod toward his side of the bed, and his eyes catch the empty space for a moment but inevitably land back on you, much to your chagrin.

The assassin falls silent again, letting the emptiness take over you as tension builds. You're beginning to panic.

"(Y/n), when's the last time you got a full night's sleep?" he eventually asks.

He knows the answer already. You're sure of it. Or else, he wouldn't have been asking.

You swallow hard as you look at him with slightly widened eyes. "Um... a couple days ago," you elect to say.

"You're lyin' again."

You frown. "Well then why would you ask me if you already knew the answer?" you snap, tone taking an abrupt iciness.

Toji squints his eyes at you. "Now you wanna give me attitude after months of not tellin' me the truth?"

"I'm not giving you attitude, Toji, for fuck's sake."

"Then what do you call that, huh? I can barely get a word out of you for weeks and now you're cussin at me. You can't tell me I didn't do somethin' wrong if this is how y're talkin' to me."

"I'm telling you it's nothing," you turn away with steely eyes. "Can't you just drop it?"

"You're askin' the impossible of me, girl," he exhales tiredly, dropping down to a knee before you to better meet your eyes. You see the motion out of the corner of your eye, but force yourself to continue looking away. "I can't drop shit that has to do with you."

You sour.

Those words once so sweet to you now only sound like a recycled promise.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes, looking down at your hands as you pick at your nails. "Yeah, right," you utter low under your breath.

"Excuse me?"

You shrink again. "Nothing."

"Uh uh," he reaches up to grab your chin and turn you toward him. Your jaw is set hard as your eyes snap back to his face reluctantly. You find that he is growing agitated with you, as his gaze is harder than before. "Run that by me again. You think I don't care about you?"

"Toji, please," you push his hand away. "We have work in the morning. Let's just-"

"I'm not gettin' back in that bed until you tell me what's wrong," he rests his elbow beside your leg and leans. "You know I'm dead serious. I don't care if it takes all night."

You find that there is no escaping. No lying. You knew there wouldn't be, anyway. This is Toji Fushiguro after all, stubborn as a bull, so much so that he took his ex's last fucking name.

Your heart pangs.

"So?" he pushes, lifting his brows. He nudges your knee. "Spit it out. You wanna break up?"

"Why would you ask that?" you scrunch your nose. "...Do you wanna break up?"

"The hell I do, (Y/n). I'm askin' you."

"But why?"

"Cause you're acting so fucking weird, baby," he emphasizes, eyes earnest and wounded. "You don't wanna split, then?"

"...No, Toji..." you deflate. "But if that's... I don't know, if that's what you want..."

"Don't turn this onto me. I'm not the one acting like your poison any time you touch me."

"I don't-"

"You do," he interjects. "If you don't wanna leave me, then what?"

You struggle to find the words, eyes falling to your lap. "I can't tell you."

"Why? You cheating on me?"

"No!"

"Did someone die?"

"No."

"Are you pregnant?"

"No," You shake your head again.

Toji ducks his head in defeat, finding himself running in circles. "Christ, are you gonna give me a hint?"

"I can't tell you."

"That doesn't make any sense. You're the one always tellin' me I can talk to you about anything. Now the roles are reversed and you wanna shut down. Like I'd ever let you pull away like that. Are you sick? Is your brain scrambled? Is that why you're thinking stupid shit like that?"

You shift, tugging your blanket tighter. "Why are you being so mean?"

"I'm not, (Y/n). I'm lost," he breathes. "And I'm losing it. You're freaking me out."

"Then maybe you should leave me be if I'm causing you so much trouble."

You stand and brush past him, opening the bedroom door to leave suddenly. You're in the darkness of the living space, rounding the corner back to the kitchen, but Toji is hot on your heels.

"I don't wanna fight with you on this," he growls.

"Then don't. I'm not fighting," you shrug.

You reach the kitchen again and lean over to grab your forgotten mug, but Toji cuts off your point of contact, stepping between you and sliding the drink further away. You glare up at him.

"Y're taking out all your shit on me," he observes. "You think I don't want you?"

"Oh my god," you grumble. You go to storm past him, but he is quick to grab your blanketed arm, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to eye him, your gaze coming off much nastier than it should, simply because you're hurting. And Toji is cracking away at your shell to get to the ugly truth.

"Don't walk away from me," he says. "I'm talkin' to you."

"Let me go."

And he does, but very slowly. He regrets it the moment you slip away again, disappearing into the bedroom. He follows you as you toss your blanket onto the bed, as you rifle through your closet for sweats and a jacket, as you leave to shove shoes on, and as you open the front door to step outside.

The air is cold and your breath hits the atmosphere in a visible fog. You hiss through your teeth as you step onto the steps and look around the neighborhood. You didn't grab your keys. You figured you'd just walk.

"(Y/n), get back inside," Toji shouts, shutting the door behind him to continue following you. You don't answer him. You just walk, and you hate how you know that he is behind you. You hate how his voice calls you, how it does not relent. You hate this reminder that he really does love you, and it's all because of her.

Because he sees her and not you.

It takes one last call of your name to make you stop and whip your head around. Your lips are pressed firmly together as tears well in your eyes like sprinkles of starlight. Your forehead is creased with something akin to devastation and your shoulders are so tense.

Toji immediately slows to a stop before you, and when he sees your tears, his harshness is crumbling. "Baby..." he starts.

"Just go!" you shout at him in the middle of the pathway. "Go, leave me alone! I can't be what you want me to be! I can't -" you shiver and choke over your own words. You heave in a breath, looking all around you through blurry eyes in a poor attempt to gather whatever pieces of dignity you have left.

You can't escape this feeling. It drags down on you, clings to you, and poisons you every single time you look at your boyfriend.

You sniff hard, scrunching your eyes tight. Lines of tears slide down your cheeks from your lashes as you huff, a confession bubbling in your chest that you can no longer keep away.

"- I can't be her," you blubber, knuckling away at your eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't. I'm just not. So please, please just... just let me go. It'll be better for us."

Toji knows exactly who you are talking about from the way you emphasize that pronoun. He finds himself stilling with shock, face falling, clouds of his breath floating into the night. Your sniffles and hiccuped breaths are the only audible noise out in the darkness, and Toji finds himself floored by the mention of his ex wife from the woman he intends to marry.

"I'm sorry," you manage again, hands palming at your damp skin. "I-I'm sorry. I just - I know how much she means to you, and I know it sucks not being with her and settling for me. And I t-think that if she hadn't - we would've never - " you can't finish your sentence.

"Woah," Toji starts, stepping close to you as you wipe your tears away and stifle your cries. "Alright, hold on," he murmurs low, gentle. He cradles your wrists softly, leading you to jump, and the pieces finally connect in Toji's head. He finally is starting to understand the issue.

Toji lowers your hands from your face, revealing your flushed, tear stained skin to him as your lips tremble. He brushes way excess tears for you, tucking pieces of hair into place thoughtfully.

"What's all this you're talkin' about my dead ex wife, doll?" he asks slowly, confused and slightly aggrieved by the topic. "Sayin' I settled for you? Are you kiddin? Don't tell me she's what's had you so depressed."

You hear the way he mentions her so breezily. He was never able to do that before, back when you first met him.

"Don't play dumb, Toji. Please," you whimper.

"I'm not playin' dumb, (Y/n). Maybe I am just plain dumb 'cause I don't understand," he says delicately. "Come back inside so we can talk about this."

You shake your head. "I can't go back in there."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not my house, Toji. You know it's not. It's hers."

"Stop it," he says sternly. "Stop that shit. I don't like it."

"But it's true."

"It's your house."

"It was hers before it was mine. And it never would have been mine if-"

"Are you crazy?" he stops you. "Talkin' about her death like that. Have you lost your mind?"

You feel your heart crumble inside. You've hit a nerve. You know you have. That's why you didn't want to tell him. That's why you're better off just leaving him be. "I'm sorry," you say swiftly, and turn to go, but Toji is not having it. He secures your shoulders and keeps you in place.

"Stop trying to run away from me, girl. You're not going anywhere. Come back inside."

"Toji, you have to let me go."

"Not in a million years."

"I'm not her, Toji."

"You don't think I know that?" he furrows his brows. "Of course you're not her, (Y/n). I never expected you to be. I never asked you to be. Why are you stressin' over her all of a sudden?"

"It's not all of a sudden..." you trail off.

"...Okay." This is an inkling of progress. He'll take what he can get. "How long, then?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes," he says. "You been thinkin' like that since we met?"

"...No."

"Then for how long? Come on, (Y/n). I'm not gonna pry this shit from you all night. It's me," he whispers. Your brows curl with familiarity, with that ache of love. "Talk to me, baby. I'm askin' you."

You inhale sharply as another tear rolls down your face. Toji is quick to catch it on his thumb and swipe it away.

"How long?" he asks again.

You exhale. "I dunno... the last four or five months."

"And you've just been thinking all this shit in silence? By yourself?" You shrug. "Darlin', you're depressed. Look how you worked yourself up."

"Yeah. I know," you murmur.

"You always been like this?"

You shrug again with a wince. "Kinda."

"And this wife shit just set you off, then. Is that right?"

"...Yeah."

"Why?" he tilts his head. "What'd I do to make you start thinking about her so much?"

"I told you, it's not something you did," you sniff. You fall quiet and when you look at Toji, you see him waiting, expecting, as he is not going to continue to spoon feed you your own answers when you can speak yourself. He wants you to express yourself instead of keeping all of this in.

But it's hard. It's hard to give voice and power to what has only existed within your mind.

So you struggle for a bit, struggle to find the words, but Toji waits and hangs on to every silent second you think.

"I don't care how that shit sounds when you say it," he says suddenly. "I just want you to say it. Don't think about how it'll come off. Talk."

So you do.

"It's not something you did," you say again, quietly, timidly. "...It's just something I became aware of after I moved in... I know it's rude to shove myself into your family's grief, and I'm really sorry. I beat myself up for it every day, but... I don't know, somewhere along the line, I just started seeing her in everything," you confess. "And if I was seeing her, then I can only imagine what you and Megumi see... and I just thought that... you know, with how long it took you to open up to me... that you... started pretending or hoping I was her instead. Then I started obsessing even more."

Your confession settles hard into reality, and once the words have left you, you cringe. It's out in the open now. For Toji to scorn, to reject, to accept, to confirm.

Toji can practically feel the way your hear hammers by the pace of your pulse in your neck, and he deflates.

He thinks back to the death of his wife that still looms over his home every day, in every waking moment. He thinks of how the world drained of color, how his heart split in two, and how the blood of targets served in place of her warmth, as it was the only warm thing he could feel at the time.

He thinks of how he neglected his kids, how Tsumiki was left to care for Megumi during every last minute trip, every prolonged job, every bender, every fling. He thinks of how he couldn't even look Megumi in the eye without seeing what he lost, without being torn apart by the grief.

He thinks of how shitty he was when you met him. How many years of friendship it took for him to melt, to heal, to genuinely move on.

He thinks of the first time your laugh made his heart burst, as it was the first time he had felt such a thing in what felt like eons. He thinks of the first time he held your hand, how snug your soft skin felt against his palm. He thinks of your first kiss, and the guilt that wracked him when he knew that he was falling for you. That he was actually, truly, living again. Without her.

Toji frowns because he understands why you would think such a way. He really does. He spent the majoirity of the beginning of your relationship pushing and pulling, battling with the internal conflict, with the dilemma of honoring his ex wife while moving forward. He was so much different back then, so wishy washy, so torn. He hates how his grief could have made you think that his love for you isn't real, that it's only a placeholder, when you are everything.

Yes, his ex is dead. Yes, it turned his world upside down, but you are here with him and that's all he can ask for. You helped him, you saved him and his family, you loved him when he thought that love had died, you brought back color to a lifeless canvas.

You're his. And though he would never wish what he went through on his worst enemy, he can not imagine a world without you in it.

It's strange... that he had to lose someone in order to gain you.

With a heavy sigh, Toji smooths his hand to the back of your head and cradles it tenderly. His ivy hues regard you with love and understanding, face flat, eyes alight. He takes in your tears, your anguish, and he promises to suffer for it. To atone for what he's done to you without even trying.

He gets it. He does. For if the roles were reversed, hell, he'd feel the same way.

"Come inside, baby," he tells you gently. "I don't wanna have this talk with you out in the cold."

You tremble with fear, with looming heartbreak. "...Am I right for thinking that way?"

"No," he responds so easily, like he doesn't have to think about it. "But I - hell, I don't know. I should've known you'd feel some type of way about her eventually."

"Do you... still think about her?"

Toji purses his lips. "Yeah," he answers honestly. "Every day. But not in the way you're thinkin'."

Your stare up at him with such emotion, so fragile that you may break down at any moment as his other hand rests on your cheek.

"Losin' someone like that... shit, it sticks with you. It does. I won't lie to you about that. And you know it. You saw how I was, and... I guess... I'm sorry you had to deal with all that so early on."

"You don't have to apologize for mourning her, Toji. I'm saying I know-"

"You don't. Not really, or else we wouldn't be havin' this conversation," he says, and you clamp your mouth shut and let him go on. "My grief shoulda never made you feel like I wanted you to be her. She's the mother of my kid, (Y/n). We were married and she died. She ain't just gonna go away, but I've grieved her long enough to know that I love you. How I feel about you doesn't have anything to do with her. It's about you and me. And I wouldn't ever disrespect either of you by tryin' to turn you into someone who ain't even here. Hell, if I was lookin at you to be her, we wouldn't be together. You get what I'm saying?"

You nod solemnly, slowly. "I do."

"Do ya?" he cranes his head forward. "I love you. You hear me? I love you so much it fuckin' hurts. If I lost ya, I'd lose my mind. You get that right?" you nod again, but Toji isn't convinced. "Nah, I wanna hear you say it."

"Toji-"

"Come on. Say it."

Your nose flares as you melt. "You love me," you give in.

"So much it hurts."

"...So much it hurts," you finish shakily. "I love you too. I love you so much. I just don't want you to be unhappy. I know losing her really hurt you and I don't know what I'd do with myself if you were still just suffering."

"Grief ain't a straight line, doll. You know this. That doesn't mean a thing about how I feel about you."

You pause. "...Toji?"

"Yeah," he answers mindlessly as he looks over your face.

"Are you still in love with her?"

Toji stills. "(Y/n)," he starts. "She's dead. The love I have for her is somewhere floating around. It's different. It's the past. You're my present, and I love you."

"But if she were still here..."

"I don't wanna think about if she was still here. That ain't the life I'm living right now. I wouldn't have you, and it just - gets too fuckin' weird and complicated to even think about. So quit it. Y're shitting all over the good we have now, and even she wouldn't go for that."

You can't even be mad at his responses, for they're so Toji, so unapologetically full of truth that you remember he would never hide from you. This is your boyfriend, the man who completely changed to be with you. The man who swears to love you, to protect you, to hold you close until the day he dies. The man who promises you as a new parent for his kids, who welcome you with open arms - not despite the past, but because of it.

And the woman who gave Toji his last name still lingers, but in that spiritual, guarding way. She sheds the house in light, now able to rest knowing that you are there to look after everyone.

You've been a fool, acting like this, reliving grievances that the family has long come to terms with. Now that you've expressed yourself, now that the thoughts have left your lips, you can see that love swirling once more in Toji's eyes. You don't know how you had chosen not to see it for so long.

The feelings, however, won't just go away, even with this assurance.

You huff with an incoming cry and bury your face in your hands, overwhelmed, vulnerable, overstimulated.

Toji does not have to think before gathering you up in his arms, wrapping you tight, settling his chin atop your head and staring forward as you cry into his chest, humiliated, relieved, overcome by it all.

He presses his lips firm to your head with a promise. "It's you and only you," he mutters as you tremble.

And hopefully it's enough, enough for you to believe, to carry with you as truth and nothing less. For that's all Toji has for you. Truth, love, and his very life.

He's lost someone before. He won't let it happen again.

Not with you. Not ever.

"Come back inside, doll."