#yoichewrites

he was currently sitting on the edge of your bed— slouching and his head held low, basically everything but being full of power — with you crouched in front of him, finally finishing with patching him up.

and even as he no longer feels your hands on him, he still doesnt budge — still spacing out...

honestly, he's been silent the entire time — to the point you didn't even pester him about getting hurt.

"lohen."

"hm?"

"hello?"

"mhm."

"i can't believe you're pretending to be listening! to me, of all people! don't tell me im starting to sound like varka when he nags you—" you gasp, theatrically — you're only joking around to see if he'll respond, like always.

lohen lets out a chuckle at that. "no— no, im listening. i swear." but then he goes silent again. and this time the rhythmic tapping of his fingers also stops. now he's just staring as you stand up and sit beside him.

"alright, what's wrong?" you ask, poking his cheek.

"its nothing."

"oh you know it's not nothing. usually when you come over, you're boasting about how you've taught your fellow knights some nice lessons! or about how many monsters you've killed in under a minute during patrol," your hand moves — as it's now ontop of his, squeezing gently. "lohen, you're really trying to hide? from me?"

"am i really that obnoxious?" (he sighed once you nodded) "it's dumb. i just... you know, i hate ending up like this— having to be patched up and everything. i mean, the pain is fine but the fact i got hurt from a bunch of lowsy monsters says alot, you know..."

you didn't respond for a moment, but only because you understood. sure, you hate when he was hurt — but he hates it too. not in the same way as you, oh, no, he probably loves the pain. but while the ache is nothing, its the fact he even got to the point of feeling it is the problem. getting hurt just means you could get hurt worse. he fully believes strength is everything. after all, being strong gives you the privilege of not having to ever fear of being used or controlled...

"oh lohen..." you smiled softly, "im just glad you're okay, im glad you aren't badly hurt, im glad i got to patch you up—"

"oh, i know. you're always glad to see me." lohen smirks slightly.

and you just slap his shoulder weakly (or is your 'strong' just nothing to him?) "now you're just ruining the moment," you huffed playfully.

but he just tackles you onto the bed — not too rough, of course. "lohen!" you scold slightly, "your wounds are still healing!"

"yeah, yeah..." he mutters, now lying beside you— his head titling slightly to press against your shoulder, not long before he looks up at you, as if waiting for something...

"yes, yes... you are, and forever will be, the best and the strongest," you mused.

"mhm, mhm" he agrees smuggly, though it almost sounds like a purr to you

"forever my lohen?"

"yours," he mumbles — in that soft voice that doesnt sound like him — he's a little bashful even as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer "though ill have to get stronger twice as much if im gonna protect you too," he jokes (but hes serious) — only for him to suddenly, "oh shit— that stings," when you get to close to his wound.

"i told you to stop moving so much!"

perhaps its the way he handles you with such tenderness— you're barely able to process what's happening, still half asleep, but if there's one thing you're aware of, it's the delicate, lingering, touch that you feel on your forehead, a hand that seems to be brushing off a few hair strands that cover the face he'd rather die than never see again.

or maybe it's when you've finally gotten enough energy to sit up, and see the love of your life (he likes to say,) sitting on your side of the bed, near your legs. as kazuha, lovingly, takes your hand into his, the feeling of chapped lips— a sign he's just woken up himself— softly pressing onto your fingers, as he mumbles something along the lines of "truly, you're a beauty. even when you're sprawled out on the sheets like our laundry."

and kazuha lets out a chuckle, because, truly, he knows that you'll soon have enough energy to hit him for that statement.

yet, for some reason, she insists, that whatever it is, it can never compare to you. your smile, or your encouragement— god, your everything, your anything!

well, she insists but, she'll never truly admit.

"why are you looking at me like that?" robin muses. and you hear her soft voice— loud and clear.

"i wasn't looking at you?"

why aren't you looking at me— is what robin wanted to say. but she knows better than to speak such shallow words. so instead she sighs, nervously lowering her head. she wants to spit something out, really, maybe something that'll take and keep your attention, but it's wrong to be jealous the one time she isn't showering in the spotlight!

it's different this time, she wants to tell herself. she has the right to be envious. but, when she looks back up at you, standing beside her, as you stare out to the marvelous view. she can't help but think she'd want to commit a crime, one that would be to try and wipe off the awe in your eyes.

it's just this once! she repeats in her mind, but she can't help but be disappointed in herself, how spoiled she is! but all she can think about is how you're supposed to look at me like that!

what breaks her out of her thoughts is your laugh— internally thanking whoever is up there for such a blessing.

"you're pouting," you whisper, lips tugging slightly into a smile, and robin's eyes widen a bit.

"i'm no—" her words cut off by the feeling of your soft lips pressed to hers, she wishes you would've have done that sooner. please, please stay like this. she wishes time would just freeze and the loving embrace of your kiss be felt forever—

till you quickly pull away, much to her dismay. and you notice how she turns away, facing the scenery— her hands clumsily holding onto the railing, squeezing them for some sort of confirmation. you let out a chuckle, before moving one hand to cup her cheek, gently turning her to face you once more, your other hand holding onto one of hers, pressing a tender kiss onto her fingers,

"the view is beautiful, really. but you know nothing compares to you." and robin feels she'd melt right then and there.

and which is probably why yoichi flushes at the sight of you bashfully clutching a heart-shaped box when he opens the door to you. your arms extending, gently pushing the box onto his chest, and he notices how you seem to be quite flustered too, and it makes him laugh, the state you two are in. yet he flashes you one of his signature boyish smiles, before gently taking your little present from your hands, the way his fingers slightly brush against yours, makes his breath quietly hitch. his thumb gently tracing the ribbon that's perfectly stuck onto the middle, it's color the same shade as his hair.

he's silent— speechless, you could say. but the fact your nerves are tense make even more worried about it than you should be. and you have the sudden urge to just turn around and make a run for it, but then instead you're pulled into a hug, "thank you," you hear yoichi mumble, and it comes out a bit muffled as he buries his face into your shoulder, and you can tell how shy he has gotten.

"happy valentines, isa—" "yoichi." and you laugh again when he cuts you off, still trying to hide the evident blush on his cheeks. yet you feel how his lips curve into a slight smile, before he hurriedly pulls away, walking out of your view into his house for a bit, coming back with a jar of what seems to be those 3d paper hearts. their colors ranging from pink to red, and he hands it to you as his other hand holds the chocolates you gave him.

"they... have something written inside them too... so..." he mutters, stuttering at some point, trying to avert his gaze from you— and you start internally fighting the urge to cry right then and now because of how sweet he is, but you know better than that, he'd probably feel bad and think it was his fault and even worse he'd start crying himself.

so instead you smile at him, again— i mean, you wouldn't smile at someone like him— "thank you, really." you whisper, and he doesn't stop you from pressing a light kiss onto his cheek, just like the fact he can't stop his face from reddening even more— looking like all the heart decorations that are normally put up on this day.

he can't wait to eat the sweets you made specially for him, but he also can't wait to spend more days with you, or maybe even share what you made with each other! who knows? the only guaranteed thing would be how much yoichi wants to be yours— and you to be his.