#swrkn

"It’s been more than fifteen minutes since we’ve been sat, how come you still don’t know what you want to eat ?"

"I’m a little..distracted that’s all—but I know what I want now don’t worry !” You said happily, calling your server by waving your hand at her.

You had noticed people glancing at him,not that it was unusual ; Itoshi Sae attracted attention : pretty and famous it was no wonder people recognized him anytime you two were out together.

The server finally came to your table, greeting the two of you politely. She was a girl around your age, very cute to be honest. You caught her staring at Sae for a second longer than necessary, not that you weren’t used to it.

By the time you two finished eating she had stopped by your table multiples times — refilling your water, asking if everything tasted okay, making conversation with you. You assumed she was just being friendly to receive a good tip.

"Did you enjoy everything ?" She asked approaching your table to take your plates.

"Yeah it was really good thanks ! " You answered her question with a little enthusiasm.

She smiled hiding a small blush appearing on her cheeks. She then looked at you — not at Sae like you thought earlier but at you. Her fingers tightened slightly around the plates she just took from you, she definitely looked more shy than earlier.

"I really hope this doesn't come off as strange..." You blinked at her a little confused. "Hm ?"

She looked even more nervous. "I-I just think you're..really pretty." Hearing this, you let out a small laugh. "Thank you, you’re also really cute." Your remark made her blush even more.

She smiled back.. She didn't move then finally asked ; "Would it be okay if I gave you my number ?"

There was a silence — the awkward type. The question just hung there. You looked at her, she looked back at you and neither of you seemed to notice that Sae had gone still.

"Oh " you said softly. The girl looked mortified, embarrassment was the only thing she could feel. "Sorry ! I really didn’t want to make thing awkward.. was that too straightforward ?"

"No no it's just..." You glanced across the table. Sae was looking at the server who just hit on you while on a DATE with him, INFRONT of him.

You looked back at her. "I'm actually here with my boyfriend." You answered her while designing Sae with your hand. "Your…boyfriend?" "Her boyfriend yes."

You nodded agreeing to his words. She turned her head to look at him, you could see the shocking expression all over her face. "Oh."

The girl looked between the two of you after finally meeting your eyes again. "..Oh my gosh — I’m really sorry ! " You tried not to laugh at the once again uncomfortable face she was making.

The girl. Practically fled from the table letting a silence settling between the two of you.

You kept your gaze on your glass. Then your shoulders started shaking. Sae finally starting speaking. "Are you laughing ?"

You glanced up at him. "No.." He watched you after finally looking in the direction the server had disappeared.

You lost it a laugh escaped from your mouth. "What’s so funny ?" You shook your head. "Nothing."

He looked genuinely confused. "I don't understand what's funny." You looked at him, making your laugher even worse.

You took a breath. "You got ignored. The Itoshi Sae got ignored by a girl" He frowned slightly but still enough that you could see it. "You really were bothered."

"I'm not bothered." He said looking away briefly. "I know she was talking to you."

You laughed softly. "So you were paying attention." "Course I was." The answer came naturally. Your smile faded a little, though Sae seemed not to notice it .

His gaze settled on you once again. "You get hit on often ?" "Hmm.." You thought a little about it. "Sometimes but definitely not as much as you though." He let out a small hum of acknowledgement at what you just told him, making it seems as nothing.

You knew him well enough and it definitely wasn't nothing. You rested your chin in your hand. "Are you jealous?"

"No." He answered a little too fast—"I'm not jealous." "Then why do you care so much ?"

He didn't answer immediately but his eyes remained on you.

"I don't know." He continued with a calm voice.

You could tell he was starting to get embarrassed by the blush starting to form on his ears at that sigh you couldn’t help yourself but laugh a little. "Why are you making that face ?" "I’m not making any face !"

You reached across the table reaching for his hand . After a moment he placed his hand in yours. His fingers were warming yours. Then his fingers closed around your hand.

"So you really are jealous."

"..Shut up"

꧁ IGLESIAS.BUNNY

The place was tucked away in a corner of the town, a little place Bunny had found during his early days with the club. It was small and cozy with leather chairs with no one recognising him as it was mostly old people attending here.

He was sitting across from you, sleeves rolled up to his elbows dark eyes half-open because of the exhaustion that came from training until his legs gave out.

The two of you were talking when you noticed a shadow fell over the table.

Bunny’s posture changed when a girl stood over your table. She was tall and confident with eyeliner and a smirk. She was beautiful. In a way that made people nervous.

His hand slightly tightened around yours. He was used to fans coming up to him along with the autograph request, the photo and the nervous giggling.

"I'm sorry to interrupt " the girl said, her eyes fixed on you. "I had to come over. You're gorgeous."

Your boyfriend mouth hung open looking surprised.

The girl leaned down letting her hand touch your shoulder. "I'm Sofia. I was sitting there with my friends and I couldn't stop staring, are you single ?"

Bunny looked at you confusion and shock on his face. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. Quite the funny face he was making.

She continued by inviting you to have a drink with her and to exchange numbers while his grip on your hand got even tighter.

He was definitely not used to this, people did not hit on his girlfriend in front of him.

"Um.." you let out a small sound from your mouth, clearly embarrassed eyes switching between the two of them. Bunny face was priceless ; wide-eyed and indignant.

"Excuse me but— " Bunny started, his voice a little sharp, "We're together. Like dating, just the two of us."

She quickly side-eyed him before returning her gaze to you. "So... What do you say ?"

Bunny let out an exaggerated gasp, looking at you with wide pleading eyes.

"I’m really flattered but I’m not single..sorry." That girl was sadly the stubborn type as she decided to left her number on a napkin before leaving it in the table. "Well, if you ever change your mind you know where to find me ! " She said winking at you.

After she left, the atmosphere at your table was definitely unpleasant.

"No puedo creerlo." Bunny said in his mother tongue, staring at the napkin looking offended. "She wrote her number on a napkin, right in front of my salad, can you believe it ?"

"Don’t be jealous, I’m just that beautiful." At your words Bunny’s face softened.

"Can you blame me ? " he said, "I just... I'm not used to being the one watching people get excited when talking to you."

You kissed his knuckles. "You're the one who has me. I don't need anyone number because I already have you texting me every day."

"Now come on. Lets get out of here before she comes back."

Bunny quickly pulled you into his arm, kissing your forehead. He then picked up the napkin crumpled it and put it in his pocket. "I'm keeping this as proof that someone tried to steal you and failed."

You smiled. "You're impossible."

"You love me."

"I love your money more."

"Sucia mentirosa."

꧁ KAISER.MICHAEL

The art gallery was really full of itself.

Michael was totally into the art gallery as he thought it was amazing. This place had a certain vibe, with its sleek walls and fancy lighting that made the paintings look like a million bucks. But between you and me, he didn't really get the art and (according to him) he didn't need to. All that mattered was looking at the painting like some kind of connoisseur and enjoying the atmosphere. He was happy to just soak it all in, even if he didn't totally understand it.

As you walked along, he grasped your hand tightly making sure everyone around could see that you were together. He came to a halt in front of a vibrant painting, its canvas splattered with bold red and black colors.

"That sure look..original" "This is expressionism." he explained with gleaming eyes from excitement. "It's like a mix of chaos, violence, and passion all rolled into one."

He turned to face you a smile spreading across his face. "It reminds me of myself." he said, his voice low and thoughtful. The way he looked at you made you wonder what he meant by that statement.

Was he saying that he was a complex, passionate individual full of contradictions ?

Or was he implying that his life was a chaotic violent mess with moments of beauty and passion thrown in ?

You however did not think the painting was that great. "It looks like something a little kid would make"

Kaiser was upset that you didn't care for the painting, he actually thought you should be really impressed by it. "You're supposed to think this is amazing." he declared clearly expecting a different reaction from you.

You just told him that you were always impressed by how he could talk about nothing and make it sound important.

A woman then approached you, with elegance and refinement, like someone who would be right at home in this "beautiful" gallery. She suddenly gazed at you eyes sparkling with wonder.

"There's something truly special about you." She told you in a voice filled with conviction. "You seem to belong here, as if you're an integral part of the art itself." She paused, studying you intently, her eyes locked onto yours.

"It's as if you've been here before, like you're a part of this world, a world where creativity and beauty reign supreme." Her words were laced with a sense of curiosity, and you couldn't help but feel like she had her head a little too up in the cloud.

A certain someone did not like that this random woman was saying words like that to you. He stood up straight, tried to get her attention.. but she just kept looking at you.

She introduced herself as the owner of the art gallery before expressing her interest in featuring you in her upcoming show. "I think you'd be perfect for it !" She said sparkling with enthusiasm. "There's something about you that's really special : a certain presence that draws people in."

Kaiser didn't take too kindly to her idea of featuring you on her show. He took your arm putting you slightly behind him just enough to block your path. "She’s not going anywhere." he said with a firm voice.

"Well she should ! She definitely have the face I’m looking for." she said with a shrug.

You attempted to calm Kaiser as he started to looked a little more mad. Meanwhile, you turned to the owner and let her know that you weren't interested in being featured on her show.

Despite what you had just said, she handed you her card. "Take it, just in case you have a change of heart !" With that, she finally walked away, leaving you to think about your decision.

Kaiser was still fuming. He snatched Margot's card from you and shoved it in a trash can nearby. "She wants you to give her a call."

You simply shrugged your shoulders and muttered, "I guess so—" you were suddenly cut off by arm being wrapped tightly around you, pulling you in close.

You gently touched his face, fingers tracing the contours of his skin. "I'm not going anywhere." Your voice was firm and reassuring. "I choose you."

" You are my everything, I can’t lose you."

Your lips touched his, and for a brief moment, everything felt right. But then Kaiser pulled away, a smile spreading across his face.

"Let's get out of here. I need to be sure that you’re not running off with any art gallery owner" "wouldn’t dream of it"

"Sehr gut, meine Liebe."

꧁ HUGO.VIVIEN

Vivian really enjoyed being here. It wasn't because of the books though— he did read, but he preferred pages with no words on them. He found that they helped him think more clearly, without any distractions. What he liked most, was that nobody bothered him. Everyone was busy doing their own thing, just as they should be, and that suited Vivian just fine. He could finally have some peace and quiet, and that's all he really needed.

You sat across from him with an open notebook, scratching on paper. He watched you for a moment, just observing. Like studying a problem to solve.

"Is there something on my face ?" You finally questioned him after what felt like an hour of him staring at your face. "We should get going in about ten minutes, you’re starting to look even more tired."

"I'm fine " you said without looking up.

"Your fine is subjective while my observation is objective." He rummaged through his jacket and pulled out a bar of dark chocolate, placing it next to my notebook. "Here, have a bite. I think your blood sugar might be getting a little low."

You smiled to yourself breaking off a small piece, "You always seem to know."

He thought for a moment then returned to his book, turning to a blank page, his eyes hovering over the emptiness.

The silence came back once again before footsteps came to interrupt it.

A young woman suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle, probably in her twenties, with a messy mop of hair and a big, cozy sweater wrapped around her. Her glasses were slipping down her nose, and she was struggling to hold onto a pile of books. She was the living cliché of a librarian girl.

"Excuse me," she said softly, her gaze wandering over the books stacked beside your table. "I'm trying to find a copy of The Stranger by Camus. Do you know if the original edition available on this floor ?"

You opened your mouth to respond but she was already looking at you differently, looking like she'd forgotten her question.

She dropped her books on the table, not even bothering to ask first. "You know—you've got really great bone structure — I mean, it's just a fact. Are you into art or something?"

Vivian stopped his so called "reading".

He glanced up, his face a picture of calmness much like the way he looked at people he didn't know or the empty pages of the books that lined his shelves.

"No " you said slightly surprised. " I'm in—"

Vivian cut you off to complet your sentence. "She's studying literature," he said to her calmly. "And she's with me."

The girl blinked, finally noticing him. " Oh..are you her—"

"Boyfriend."

She clearly didn't care of what he had to say. It was clear from her expression. "I’m doing my master in literature too !" She happily said, returning her attention to you.

"I'm intrigued, most people only pretend to read him but you look like someone who actually do." she continued, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What draws you to Camus? Is it the absurdity, the search for meaning, or something else entirely ?" Her voice was laced with a hint of excitement as if she had stumbled upon a rare treasure. "I've always been fascinated by his ability to capture the human condition in his writings." she added leaning in slightly. "There's something about his words that resonates deeply, don't you think ?"

"She does read Camus. I know this because I’ve had the pleasure of listening to her reading him to me for hours, and often together in bed." He answered her question in your place without any shame.

The girl cheeks flushed. "Okay that's—"

"Intimate information ?" Vivian tilted his head. " Maybe.. but in the establishing context, you approached girlfriend with interest so I'm just clarifying that you're wasting your time."

You stared at his face still calm as ever.

"I'm not—" she started trying to defend herself.

Vivian cut her off once again his voice still soft. "I'm not bothered, it's only human to be attracted to someone. But she's with me, and that's her decision."

Emma opened her mouth. Closed it.

"You're really weird " she said finally.

"I'm aware."

She grabbed her books and left without another word, leaving to the silence his rightful place.

Vivian went back to reading his book not saying a word about what had just happened. He didn't even crack a smile, simply kept on going like nothing had interrupted him at all.

"I've never seen you get so jealous that was quite a show."

"Jealousy is just an emotion." he muttered his eyes still on his book, "I was simply stating the facts. You belong to me. She was just a factor that I eliminated."

You let out a small laugh. "I think there are better ways than telling her that I read Camus in bed with you."

His eyes finally looked back at you. "It was relevant wasn’t it ?"

"You’re right." you whispered another small laugh escaping your lips. "I am yours."

"Tu vois quand tu veux" he said snapping off another piece of chocolate and offering it to you. "Now get back to work. We don't have much time, only seven minutes before your energy crashes again."

You took the chocolate, and as you did your fingers brushed against his. But he didn't flinch or pull his hand back, he just stayed still.

That was his way of showing affection.

You’d learned to read him the same way he loved to read those blank pages.

B = Best Friend (how is he as a friend)

As a best friend, he’d be loyal, caring, and supportive. Friendship might begin with you joining the club: you’d speak gently, persistently, and earn his trust. 

C = Cuddles (how does he likes cuddles)

He loves cuddles, you do it most of the time in private. A shy touch—maybe you hugging him from behind or being the “big spoon”,grounds him and calms his nerves. 

D = Domestic

Kotaro can cook (canon) and enjoys making meals for you, like a homemade school lunch, slightly hesitant to let you help but cherishing your presence while he cooks.  

E = Ending (break-up)

I do not see him breaking up with you, I think if he got in a relationship it’s because he really wants something serious, so you’d have to be the one initiating the breakup. If this day come, I think he would genuinely be broken and cry wondering what he did wrong.

F = Fiancé(e) (what does he think about mariage)

He’s cautious about commitment; given his anxiety, he’d move slowly toward “forever” and likely propose only when he’s 100% sure the relationship is safe and meaningful.

G = Gentle (how gentle is he)

Emotionally and physically, Kotaro is extremely gentle—his words are soft, his actions mindful, and his presence comforting even when anxious.  

H = Hugs

He enjoys hugs,it just help him feels better, most of the time you are the one initiating it. A hug from you helps him feel grounded. In public, he might shyly tuck into your side to hide—touch matters deeply to him. 

I = I Love You (how often does he say it)

He likely says it slowly, after real emotional significance—perhaps during a comforting moment at home or in music-filled silence.

J = Jealousy (how jealous is he)

Not very jealous, but more like protective a bit reserved and anxious when someone else gets close to you, but he trusts you so he won’t say anything on the moment. His care shows most clearly one-on-one.

K = Kisses

Soft, tentative, and meaningful, perhaps on your forehead or hand at first. He’d be shy about direct lips-to-lips kisses, more likely to kiss you in sleepy moments or private contexts.

L = Little Ones (does he likes kid)

Kids likely calm him he’s gentle and nurturing. His empathy toward spirits suggests he’d be patient and supportive with children, especially in quiet, soothing company. With kids his anxiety isn’t as bad as with people his age.

M = Morning (how are mornings like)

Mornings might be quiet. He’d bring you tea to wake you up, before starting your usual routine.

N = Night (how are nights like)

Nights are peaceful: music sharing or ASMR since he likes listening to it before sleeping (canon) , little talks about how went his day and yours, just peace. 

O = Open (how quickly does he open to you)

He opens up slowly. He first reveals quirks or secrets in gentle phases—usually during calm moments or shared stories about music or spirits. He rarely overshares all at once.

P = Patience (how patient is he)

Extremely patient. His anxiety may cause withdrawals, but he takes time to process—never snaps. You’d have to gently coax or reassure him, and he’d appreciate it deeply.

Q = Quizzes (how is his memory)

He remembers small details about you like your favorite song, a new restaurant you wanted to try and others things you said in the past—especially if it resonates with music or emotion. His memory is selective but meaningful.

R = Remember (favorite moment with you)

His favorite moment might be when you held his hand in public, calming him without saying a word. Or a late-night music session where he finally felt truly connected with you.

S = Security (how protective is he)

Not the protective type in a flashy way, but emotionally protective ; he’d quietly block your bag before you carry it, offer his jacket, remind you to stay hydrated or cook for you—all acts of caring shielded in calmness. 

T = Try

He puts gentle effort into dates or small gifts—perhaps a homemade playlist or a guitar tune you like. He invests emotional energy, even if he struggles socially.

U = Ugly (bad habits)

He might fidget or flush when anxious, avoid eye contact, stutter, or even vomit when extremely nervous around you or others. His awareness of it makes him self-conscious, but he can’t do anything about it.  

V = Vanity (how are his clothes)

Based on how he wears his uniform, I’d say he wears more practical clothing, avoids formal uniforms, cares more about comfort than appearance. Vanity isn’t his interest. 

W = Whole (does he feels complete with you)

He likely feels more whole with you, your presence helps him question isolation and embrace human connection more fully. 

X = Xtra ( random headcanon)

He playlists you to fall asleep, and he likes to admire you sleeping, he’ll often put quiet instrumental with soft vocals, or ASMR tracks that remind him of peaceful spirits. 

Y = Yuck (what does he hates)

He dislikes crowded, loud places ; over-stimulation drains him. He’d much rather stay home with you or retreat to quiet corners, if he really has to go out. 

Z = Zzz (sleeping habits)

ASMR or quiet music helps him fall asleep. He might fall asleep playing guitar softly or listening to ambient sounds. 

You took a step closer and saw it — a dragonfly, wings gone, body twitching weakly on the ground. You winced. He didn’t.

“I wanted to see how long it’d move without wings.” he said, as if it were science. As if it didn’t make your stomach twist a little.

“You’re scaring the other kids.” you said carefully.

“They’re stupid.” he muttered.

You squatted down next to him. “They said you tried to fight three of them yesterday.”

“They wouldn’t shut up.” His jaw clenched. “They said I was crazy.”

You looked at him for a long time. He didn’t seem angry, well, not really. Just… detached. Like there was a wall between him and the rest of the world.

Except when he looked at you.

“I’m not scared of you.”

Hyuk’s eyes flicked to yours, unreadable. “Maybe you should be.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers against his scraped-up knuckles. “Maybe I just know you better than they do.”

He stared at you like he didn’t understand why you stayed. But he didn’t pull away.

You and Hyuk sat side by side on the low wall behind some abandoned garage. The race had ended hours ago, but the rest of the team had already left, leaving the two of you

Rain tapped gently against the pavement, but the overhang kept the both of you dry. Hyuk was staring ahead, hoodie pulled low over his face, one knee propped up, fingers loosely laced around it.

“I forgot how quiet it gets here after dark.” you said softly.

He hummed in agreement. “That’s why I like it.”

You glanced at him, chin on your knees. “You ever miss when it was just us? Back home?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then: “Sometimes.”

You smiled faintly. That was Hyuk-speak for all the time.

“You were a menace.” you said teasingly. “You used to always making kids cry, and fought with them.”

“They started it.” he replied evenly, not even looking at you. “I didn’t like when they talked about you.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

Hyuk’s expression didn’t change. “They said stuff. I didn’t like it. So I made them stop.”

A beat passed. You swallowed, unsure what to say. It was the kind of thing only Hyuk would casually drop in conversation like it didn’t mean something.

He shifted slightly, then spoke again, voice lower this time.

“I didn’t know how to say things back then. So I just did what I could.”

You let that sit between you for a minute. The sound of the rain, the wind rustling the trees, the way his shoulder was just barely brushing yours.

“You still do that,” you said. “Even now.”

He glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“You show up. Quietly. You don’t say much… but you’re always there.”

Hyuk looked away again, like he didn’t know what to do with that kind of truth.

You leaned your head against his shoulder gently. “You don’t have to say anything, Hyuk. I’ve always known how to read you.”

He didn’t move, but after a moment, his hand found yours between you — not a full grip, just fingers brushing yours lightly.

And that, from Hyuk, was enough.

“Seriously? That’s all you got?” he teased, dodging your weak attempt at a jab. His signature smirk was plastered on his face, making you want to wipe it off, preferably with a well-placed kick.

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, lunging at him again.

He sidestepped effortlessly, his hands still tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. “Tsk. You need to work on your footwork. You’re gonna get your ass kicked in a real fight.”

Rolling your eyes, you bent down to tie your loose shoelace. Before you could react, Taehoon flicked your forehead, making you flinch. “You always let your guard down,” he said grinning.

“Yeah? And you always run your mouth,” you shot back, swatting his hand away.

Taehoon chuckled but didn’t deny it. He watched as you stood up, his gaze lingering just a second too long.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, turning away. “Nothing.”

But you weren’t stupid. You’d caught the way his smirk faltered, how his usual cocky demeanor softened for just a moment. It wasn’t the first time, either. Taehoon wasn’t exactly the ‘soft’ type, but lately, he’d been looking at you differently, like he actually cared.

“I can hear you overthinking,” he said suddenly, his voice unusually serious. “Relax, dumbass.”

You scoffed. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Taehoon hesitated for a second before running a hand through his hair. “…I don’t hate having you around, okay?” His voice was gruff, like he was forcing the words out. “So don’t go getting yourself hurt in some dumb fight.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Seong Taehoon, the human embodiment of sarcasm and eye-rolls, was worried about you?

You decided to push your luck. “Aww, do you like me, Taehoon?”

His ears turned slightly pink, but he scoffed. “Tch. Don’t get cocky.”

But then, in a blink, he stepped closer, his face inches from yours. “But yeah,” he murmured, voice low, “I do like you.”

And before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

By the time you snapped out of your daze, Taehoon was already walking away, hands shoved in his pockets like nothing happened.

“Hey-what the hell was that?!” you shouted after him, flustered beyond belief.

He turned his head slightly, smirking. “Guess you’ll have to train harder to catch me and find out.”

Damn him.

And damn your stupid heart for racing.

(This is def not my best work im sorry) 💔

You’re sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, because you were sick. Rin notices without saying a word. He quietly makes you a bowl of soup, setting it down beside you along with a glass of water, just the way you like it. He doesn’t ask if you’re hungry or if you need anything. Instead, he simply sits beside you, keeping you company in the quiet, his presence enough to make you feel cared for.

⇨ Slow Emotional Openness

Over time, he starts sharing more of his thoughts and feelings, including his insecurities. He'll only open up in private moments where he feels safe.

One evening, as you both relax in the quiet of your room, Rin’s voice breaks the silence, softer than usual. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough, like im never gonna catch up to sae’s level, and that our relationship will never be the same,” he admits, staring at the floor. You don’t say anything right away, just sit beside him, offering your presence. After a moment, Rin meets your eyes, his vulnerability clear. “I just… don’t want to disappoint him.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze, silently telling him that he never could. Rin relaxes slightly, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips.

⇨ Subtle Jealousy

Rin isn't outwardly jealous, but his eyes narrow, and his tone sharpens if someone seems overly interested in you. He trusts you but doesn't hide his possessiveness.

You’re waiting by the field, scrolling through your phone while Rin finishes his training. A guy approaches, casually striking up a conversation. After a few minutes, he asks for your number, smiling expectantly. Rin, now done with his training, steps into view, his eyes narrowing when he notices the exchange. His voice, though calm, has an edge as he walks over. “I’m pretty sure they’re waiting for me,” he says, the possessiveness clear in his tone. The guy stumbles, quickly muttering an apology and walking away. Rin doesn’t say anything else, but his hand rests on your lower back, a quiet claim, as if to say he was watching all along.

⇨ Not the Touchy Type, But...

Rin isn't super affectionate in public, and he doesn't go out of his way to be physically close. However, when he's alone with you, he might rest his hand lightly on your back or shoulder after a long day, his touch surprisingly gentle. It's his own way of offering comfort, even if he's not fully verbal about it.

After a long, training session, Rin sits beside you, his usual calm demeanor present even as he catches his breath. The gym is nearly empty, and the two of you have a moment to yourself. You’re quiet for a while, both of you lost in your thoughts. Then, without a word, Rin shifts slightly, resting his hand gently on your shoulder, his touch soft but steady. It’s a simple gesture, not grand or overly affectionate, but there’s something comforting about it, like he’s offering a silent reassurance that he’s there. You look up at him, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps his hand there for a moment before slowly pulling it away. It’s his own way of showing you that, even if he doesn’t always verbalize it, he’s here, offering his support in the quietest way possible.

⇨ Not Overly Romantic, But Still Deep

Rin isn't the romantic, candle-lit dinner type. Instead, his moments of affection feel more sincere and understated. He's the type who will bring you a warm drink when you're exhausted from your day or sit with you after a tough practice, silently offering his presence without saying much.

After a long, exhausting day at work, you slump onto the couch, feeling the weight of stress in every muscle. Rin, noticing your tension, silently sits down behind you. He doesn’t ask if you need help, just moves to gently press his thumbs into your shoulders, working out the tightness with steady, practiced motions. His touch is firm but careful, not overly tender, but still undeniably soothing. He doesn’t speak, allowing the quiet hum of the room to fill the space, his focus entirely on easing your exhaustion. It’s not romantic, just a simple act of care, understated gesture that lets you know he’s there, looking out for you in his own way.

⇨ Channeling Stress into Soccer

When he's feeling overwhelmed,Rin will retreat into soccer, often channeling his emotions into his training. He won't talk about his stress, but you'll catch glimpses of it when you see him practicing late into the night or pushing himself harder than usual, and the only way he’ll stop, is if your telling him.

Late one night, you hear the sound of the ball being kicked outside. You find Rin practicing alone, his movements sharp and frustrated. He doesn’t look at you when you approach, his focus entirely on the drill. “Rin, it’s enough,” you say, gently stepping in front of him. He pauses, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, but then he drops the ball, his shoulders sagging slightly. Without a word, he follows you inside, the weight of his unspoken stress lifted, if only for a moment.

You quickly unlocked and slid the window open. “Wooin? What are you doing here? It’s so late!”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his dark eyes meeting yours, a flicker of vulnerability you rarely saw in him.

“I… I had nowhere else to go,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart squeezed. Wooin was always so composed, always the one who seemed unshaken by anything. Seeing him like this—so lost and unsure—made you want to hug him right then and there.

“Wait, I’ll unlock the door,” you said, rushing downstairs to let him in.

Once inside, Wooin sat stiffly on your couch, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. You handed him a warm cup of tea, and he murmured a quiet “thank you” before taking a sip. He seemed hesitant, as if afraid to burden you, but you didn’t press him.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I left.”

You blinked. “Left? You mean… your house?”

He nodded, staring into the cup in his hands. “It wasn’t working. My dad… he doesn’t understand me. No matter what I do, it’s never enough. I thought I could endure it, but tonight…” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. “I just couldn’t anymore.”

Your chest ached at the pain in his voice. You moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Wooin, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. But you’re always welcome here, okay? Stay as long as you need.”

His gaze shifted to you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you said firmly. “You’re not alone, Wooin.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. Then, to your surprise, a faint smile tugged at his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was genuine, and it made your heart swell.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

That night, you set up a makeshift bed for him in the spare room, insisting he take the extra blankets to keep warm. Before heading to bed, you peeked in to check on him.

Wooin was lying on his side, his back rising and falling steadily as he breathed. For the first time since you’d seen him at your window, he looked peaceful, like the weight of the world had finally lifted from his shoulders.

The next morning, the smell of fresh pancakes filled the air. You weren’t much of a chef, but you figured Wooin deserved a good breakfast after everything he’d been through. You glanced at the clock—it was still early, but you hadn’t been able to sleep much. The thought of Wooin showing up at your window like that lingered in your mind.

You were flipping the last pancake when you heard soft footsteps behind you. Turning, you saw Wooin standing at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little unsure of himself.

“Good morning,” you said with a smile, setting the plate of pancakes on the table.

“Morning,” he replied quietly, his voice still a little hoarse from the night before. He looked like he hadn’t fully woken up yet, his hair slightly tousled and his hoodie wrinkled.

“I made some pancakes,” you said, gesturing toward the table. “I wasn’t sure what you like, but I figured you could use something warm.”

Wooin hesitated for a moment before sitting down. “You didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, though there was a hint of gratitude in his tone.

“I wanted to,” you replied, sitting across from him. “Besides, I couldn’t just let you starve after you biked all the way here in the middle of the night.”

That earned a small chuckle from him, a sound so rare that it caught you off guard. He picked up his fork and took a bite, his movements careful and deliberate as always.

“These are good.” he said after a moment, his expression softening.

“Really? I was worried they’d be too burnt,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “They’re perfect.”

As the day went on, you could see Wooin start to relax. He spent most of the morning helping you tidy up the house, insisting that he didn’t want to “freeload.” Despite your protests, he cleaned the kitchen and even helped you reorganize your bookshelf.

By the afternoon, the two of you were lounging in the living room. Wooin was flipping through a book he’d found on your shelf, while you scrolled through your phone, debating whether or not to order pizza for dinner.

“You’re really okay with me staying here?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You looked up from your phone. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes fixed on the pages of the book, but you could tell the question was genuine.

“Of course I am,” you said firmly. “I told you last night, you can stay as long as you need to. No strings attached.”

Wooin closed the book, his fingers tracing the edges of the cover. “I’ve never had… this before,” he admitted quietly. “A place that feels safe.”

Your heart ached at his words. You’d known Wooin for a while now, but he rarely opened up about his personal life. Hearing this made you realize just how much he’d been keeping inside.

“Well, you have one now,” you said gently. “This is your home too, for as long as you want it to be.”

He looked at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he simply nodded.

That night, as you were getting ready for bed, there was knock, this time on your bedroom door.

“Come in.” you called, and Wooin stepped inside, looking a little awkward.

“I just… wanted to say thank you,” he said, his voice quiet. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Wooin,” you replied with a smile.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Goodnight,” he said softly before heading back to his room.

As you lay in bed that night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth. Wooin had been through so much, but you were determined to be there for him, no matter what.

And judging by the faint smile you’d seen on his face that day, you knew he was starting to believe he wasn’t alone anymore.

Behind him, a light laugh broke the stillness.

“Are you going to keep brooding, or are you going to come sit with me?” You teased, sitting cross-legged on the grass with a picnic basket beside you. Your playful tone didn’t go unnoticed, but Rin’s expression barely shifted.

“I’m not brooding,” he muttered, walking toward you, with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “Just thinking.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “And let me guess—soccer again?”

Rin sat down beside you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not this time.”

You feigned shock. “Wow, Rin Itoshi, thinking about something other than soccer? Stop the presses.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in it. You had a way of breaking through his walls, chipping away at the armor he wore so effortlessly around others. That’s what drew him to you in the first place, you saw Rin, not the prodigy or the stoic striker, just him.

You leaned back on your hands, watching the sun dip lower. “You know, you’re allowed to relax sometimes. You’re not a machine, Rin.”

“I know,” he replied softly, surprising you. His usual retorts were sharper, more defensive. But today felt different.

You tilted her head, studying him. “You okay?”

For a moment, Rin didn’t answer. He looked at you, really looked at you. The way your hair caught the light, the gentle curve of your smile, the way you always seemed so steady even when he felt like he was spiraling. It was comforting, grounding.

“I’m fine,” he said finally. “I just…wanted to be here. With you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, embarrassment lightly showing on your face. Rin wasn’t exactly the romantic type; he expressed himself in small, subtle ways, a hand on your back, a text to check in after a tough day. Hearing him say it outright was rare.

“Well,” you said, a little flustered, “you’re really bad at expressing that, but I’ll take it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back beside you. “I’m trying.”

You two sat in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of cicadas filling the air. You reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a water bottle, handing it to him.

“Here. Hydration’s important, Mr. Athlete.”

He accepted it without protest, taking a sip before handing it back.

“Thanks.” He paused. “Not just for the water. For everything.”

Your heart skipped at his sincerity. You reached over, lacing her fingers through his. “You don’t have to thank me, Rin. I’m here because I want to be. Always.”

He didn’t respond, but the slight squeeze of his hand said more than words ever could. For once, Rin Itoshi wasn’t chasing something,he was simply present. And for him, that was a victory worth celebrating.