Sometimes Choso gets too clingy
Choso had always been clingy.
At first, you thought it was cute. He always wanted to be near you—following you to the kitchen, sitting way too close on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder while you tried to do homework, even standing outside the bathroom door just to keep talking.
“Choso,” you laughed one day, trying to shut the bathroom door, “I promise I’ll survive five minutes without you.”
“I know,” he said calmly, leaning against the wall. “I just prefer being near you.”
That was sweet… for a while.
But lately, it felt like too much.
Every second, he needed your attention.
If you were texting someone, he’d quietly ask, “Who’s that?”
If you said you wanted alone time, he’d frown like you had stabbed him.
If you got up to grab water, somehow he was right behind you.
It started making you feel crowded.
That afternoon, you were already stressed. School had been annoying, your head hurt, and all you wanted was to sit in silence for ten minutes.
You dropped your bag by the couch and sat down with a sigh.
Finally.
Peace.
For about thirty seconds.
Then Choso walked in and immediately sat beside you—close enough that your legs touched. He gently leaned against you.
“You seem tired,” he said softly.
“I am.”
He nodded and rested his head on your shoulder.
You closed your eyes, trying to stay calm.
Then he asked, “Do you want me to make tea?”
“No.”
“Food?”
“No, Choso.”
“Did someone upset you? You can tell me.”
You took a deep breath.
“I’m fine.”
He stayed quiet for maybe ten seconds before softly saying, “Are you sure?”
That was it.
You snapped.
“Choso, can you please just leave me alone for once?!”
The room went completely silent.
His head slowly lifted from your shoulder.
He blinked at you like he didn’t understand what you said.
You were breathing hard now, frustrated words spilling out before you could stop them.
“You’re always here. Always asking questions, always following me around—I can’t breathe sometimes! I just wanted a little space!”
His face changed.
It was small, but you saw it.
That hurt.
Choso sat there quietly, staring at the floor.
“Oh,” he said softly.
That one word made your stomach drop.
“I didn’t know I was bothering you that much.”
“Choso, I—”
“No, it’s okay.”
But it didn’t sound okay.
His voice was too quiet.
He stood up slowly, avoiding your eyes.
“I’m sorry for being annoying.”
“You’re not annoying, I just—”
But he was already walking away.
You heard the bedroom door close.
Then silence.
Real silence.
And suddenly, it felt awful.
You sat there staring at the wall, replaying everything you said.
Too harsh.
Way too harsh.
You didn’t mean it like that.
An hour passed.
Then two.
Still no Choso.
No quiet footsteps.
No checking on you.
No him.
The apartment felt weird without him.
You walked to the bedroom door and stood there for a second.
You knocked softly.
“Choso?”
No answer.
You opened the door a little.
He was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, staring at nothing.
His eyes were a little red.
That made your chest hurt.
“Can I come in?”
He shrugged without looking at you.
Not exactly welcoming, but not a no.
You walked in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
Then you spoke quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
Nothing.
You looked down at your hands.
“I was stressed, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.”
Still nothing.
He finally said, very quietly, “You meant it.”
You swallowed.
“Not like that.”
“But you said it.”
His voice cracked just a little, and it made you feel worse.
“You said you can’t breathe because of me.”
“I know,” you whispered. “And I hate that I said it like that.”
He finally looked at you.
His eyes were sad. Hurt.
“I just like being with you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not good at… distance.”
“I know that too.”
He looked away again.
“I thought if I stayed close, you’d know I care.”
You moved a little closer.
“I do know. I know you care. I love that you care.”
“Then why did it sound like you hated it?”
“Because I was overwhelmed and instead of talking to you, I exploded. And that was wrong.”
He stayed quiet.
You reached for his hand carefully.
At first, he let it sit there.
Then after a second, he held yours back.
Small progress.
“I don’t want you to stop loving me like that,” you said. “I just need to be better at telling you when I need space. And I should’ve said it kindly instead of hurting you.”
He was quiet.
Then he asked, “So… you’re not tired of me?”
You almost cried.
“No, Choso. Never.”
His grip tightened.
“I really thought you were.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another long silence.
Then he sighed.
“I was trying not to cry.”
You blinked. “Trying?”
“I failed.”
That made you smile a little.
“I noticed.”
He gave you a small, offended look.
“That’s embarrassing.”
“You’re still cute.”
“I’m still upset.”
“I know.”
“You were very mean.”
“I know.”
“You should spoil me for at least a week.”
You nodded seriously. “That’s fair.”
“And let me cling to you.”
You smiled a little. “Reasonable.”
“But,” he added, softer now, “I’ll try to listen better when you need space.”
Your heart softened.
“And I’ll communicate like a normal person instead of yelling.”
“Good.”
You moved closer until you were leaning against him this time.
After a second, he wrapped his arms around you automatically, like muscle memory.
Safe.
Warm.
Home.
“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again.
He rested his chin on your head.
“I know.”
You tilted your head up to look at him.
“You forgive me?”
He waited dramatically, making you nervous.
Then finally—
“Yes. But only because I love you.”
Your chest ached at how soft he looked saying it.
Without thinking too much, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
For a second, he froze.
Then he melted.
His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go again. The kiss was soft, slow, and full of everything both of you had been trying to say.
Sorry.
I love you.
Please stay.
When you kissed him again, a little deeper this time, Choso let out the softest whimper against your lips, quiet and needy, like he’d been holding everything in for hours.
It made your heart completely give in.
You pulled back just enough to smile.
“There you are.”
His face turned red almost instantly.
“Don’t say that.”
“You whimpered.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
He looked away, embarrassed.
“That was private.”
You laughed softly and kissed his cheek this time.
“Still cute.”
He mumbled something into your shoulder that sounded a lot like, “I regret forgiving you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“…No, I don’t.”
You smiled into his chest.
“Good. Because I love you too.”
He held you tighter.
“And next time,” he mumbled, “just tell me you need space before emotionally destroying me.”
You laughed.
“Deal.”
And just like that, things felt okay again.
