🍥 bunny 🍥

At his blond, long lashes. The curve of jaw. The way his eyebrows rest on his face when he's not doing anything. The shocking calm reflected on his features in this state of vulnerability.

It's so weird for you to see him resting, it almost feels like you're looking at a different person. And you'd question it, if he still wasn't so him even in his sleep.

Like in the way his arm is thrown around your body, hand slightly curled at the back of your shirt like he'll pull you back in at any moment. Or how he shifts occasionally, not one to stay completely still even in his sleep. He even still has a leg thrown over you from where he must have draped his heavy limbs on you at some point in the night. And still, you find that you sleep even better with him here.

You lose track of time, watching him half-asleep. Counting his lashes like one would sheep, looking with interest at every twitch of his eyebrow. Wondering what's he's dreaming of, curiously thinking if he'd even remember. You can picture his animated voice in your head already, telling you whatever story played in his mind while asleep. And before you know it, light has gradually wormed its way into the room.

You are awaken from your reverie the moment he shifts his weight, a quiet groan escaping him. His brows furrow, conciousness fighting to take hold of his body already.

You feel a smile grace your lips as he mindlessly scoots closer, your nails soothingly scratching his scalp. And with a few brushes of your lips against his cheek, his lids finally open to meet your gaze.

"Morning," You greet in a whisper, staring back intently.

"Mornin', doll." He whispers, voice raspy, slow and heavy from sleep. "Someone's in a good mood, hm?"

"Yeah, you could say so." You answer with a laugh, your thumb gliding through his jaw and down his neck. And though your being extra clingy and sweet, he doesn't question it, smirking pleasantly at your affection as he pulls you even closer.

The next few minutes go on like that, the two of you cuddled close while you dote on him. Slow exhales and quiet rumbles are all that can be heard for a while, until he finally disentagles from your embrace.

You don't argue, (despite having the power to convince him to stay back some more), simply observing from where you're laying. He stretches his body languidly, the movement catching your eye.

He mumbles something you barely pay attention to, the sleep you missed claiming you from time to time as he does his morning routine. One would have loved to witness closely, but the peeks you take of him walking around the room and talking to himself while doing his hair and makeup are so domestic they keep you relaxed.

Your eyes only open when you feel a weight to the bed, a "boo!" embarrisingly startling you awake. Shidou's grinning widely, already looking like his usual self.

"Did I wake you, sleeping beauty? C'mon, can't sleep the day away."

You groan as he pulls you from your legs, effectively dragging you out of bed.

Shidou while asleep—and even half-concious—is a serene and different sight. You adored being able to witness it, but sleep has completely drained from his body and he's now full of energy as usual.

He's not having the mercy to let you sleep in today, not after you woke up first. Someone has to keep him in check anyway.

With a sigh, you let him drag you wherever you wants, quietly complaining about his disrespect to the concept of slow mornings.

Sleepy Shidou gone for the moment. Now go and keep an eye on your walking menace.

Ი𐑼 seishiro nagi

Ი𐑼 rensuke kunigami (the last two feel very wildcard don't we think 😕😕)

Ი𐑼 hyoma chigiri

Ი𐑼 oliver aiku

Ი𐑼 don lorenzo

You're rambling excitedly, pointing out everything you liked from what you witnessed, asking questions here and there before interrupting yourself with new thoughts. Barou's used to you being a little chatterbox when excited, so you yap to your heart's content. But even through your back and forth chatter, you can notice he's quieter than usual.

Though he wouldn't say much normally, you'd be able to tell that your praise works wonders for him in the inside. But now, it's like it's bouncing off of him, as he avoids his gaze like he's contemplating something.

"Sho?" Your brows furrow, concern overcoming you. "Are you okay? Is it that you're still bothered about that defeat against—"

A huff of air escapes him, his features contorting in his signature frown. "Of course not."

Okay, let's maybe ignore that subject. "Then am I annoying you? Are you tired, is that it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, nothing's wrong." He grumbles, turning away.

Though relieved by his answer, your worry doesn't lift. There's something going on, something he won't tell you. You know that, but you can't tell exactly what. Barou's looking around like he's waiting for something, arms crossed tight around his chest. And the more time spent without addressing this seemingly important topic, the more nervous you become.

"I saw you were one of the best of the whole league. ¥150,000,000 for your final offer, right? That's so impressive." You attempt to praise.

"Hah. Nothing short of what I deserve." He answers.

His response is very Barou indeed, but you can sense the tension doesn't leave. You keep prodding and making little comments, now probing instead of just idle chattering. But nothing seems to be quite the thing he's looking for, and you're struggling to find the words he wants to hear.

You clench your teeth, these heavy seconds feel like they're passing too slowly. You need to act fast before he gets fed up that you're not picking whatever clue he's hinting at, and therefore never know what he wanted in the first place. Your eyes scan his body language, jaw set tight as he lifts an arm and places his hand in the back of his head.

"Did you, uh... get stronger, by the way?" You ask, wondering if he's trying to show off his arms. You end up getting less of an answer than before, sighing in defeat. Your eyes linger on his biceps—no, focus—before haphazardly going back up, frantically searching for something to point at.

It's not his performance. It's not his drive. It's not anything you'd expect for him. Barou stretches his neck muscles, his hand sliding further up and reaching the back of his hair. And the moment you, spaced out calculating, take in his movement, something inside you snaps.

"Oh! You got a new style, didn't you?"

You say it like it's a grand revelation, and for a moment you think he'll find it stupid. But his eyes finally meet yours, arms crossing again as he huffs pridefully. "It's just something I got done by the peasants from my team. A King celebrating his achievements with a change of image is no short than fitting."

"Wow, I'm inclined to agree." You've never been more thankful of blurting out random bullshit to Barou in your life. "It makes you look intimating, and the red stripes match your eyes. Fitting for a King, indeed."

"See? I knew you'd get it. If only some loser shared your vision." Barou scowls at a random wall beside you, probably thinking of a suspiciously sprout-haired teammate. You cough lightly trying to get back his attention.

"It's fine, not everyone can recognize style when they see it," You try to reassure him, "Some people need more time before they catch on."

"I damn hope they do," he replies, chin up high, "Everyone shall bow to the King eventually."

You notice a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you finally feel the tension dissipate. You can hardly believe that Barou, the king of the field, had been wanting to get his hair complimented of all things all this time. If he'd been a girl, you're sure he would've been flipping his hair back and forth waiting for you to notice. But it's just your king all this time, who likes some common praise here and there.

You keep it to yourself, knowing he wouldn't appreciate being compared to "common folk".

But heavens, you're keeping this awkward Barou who waited around for a compliment from you in a special place in your mind.

"You can say your vows," you give him the cue in a soft tone. And with a solemnity that borders on reverence, his eyes finally roam your frame freely.

"Oh, chérie..." The words escape him before he can think, stalling to stare for a moment longer. You're wearing a pristine white, leaving you resembling of an angel. Hugo's always thought you were beautiful, but the soft silk wrapping around your body highlights your features in a bewitching way. The awareness that you're mirroring what couples use on their happiest day is making him feel lightheaded. The sight is like something out of his wildest dreams, making his lines escape his grasp.

How unfitting of him, to lose composure in such a menial situation. You're putting up a performance, professing each other a love previously inked in paper. As friends that you are, the moment is supposed to be lighthearted. But the formality Hugo can't help but treat it with is making the air feel heavier.

Oh, he's too taken by you to remember what he's supposed to say. You're looking at him so prettily, expectant for the confession his character is scripted to recite.

His mind is clouded with visions of you, and the fantasy is far more enticing than the reality that this moment is fabricated.

But if a confession is what you want, then you must consider yourself lucky that he'd never deny you.

"You are my destiny." Hugo finally utters, struggling to mantain his voice steady.

"...What?" Your blink twice, trying to remember if you actually wrote that dialogue. But Hugo's no longer thinking of the script— unbeknownst to you, he's stopped acting. His eyes, dark as void, bore into yours as he replies with conviction.

"I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, that our lives were to be entwined." He softly states. "You're my happiness, my dream come true... And I couldn't be more thankful of our paths aligning so early."

Your breath catches, the intensity of his gaze is all consuming. You should interrupt him and ask for a retake, but gods, if you still count this as a performance, you must admit it's hypnotizing. He's long lost in a reverie, taking your hands in his shaky ones. A gesture you two agreed to and that was meant to happen, but that now feels undeniably charged.

"...You really mean it?" You whisper after brief doubt, keeping up the act with slight hesitation. You must be under the impression that he's testing your improvisation skills, or believe him to be too commited to stop his act due to a mistake. Something he'd find adorable, if he were concious enough of the situation to realize. But all he hears is the voice of the one he longs for questioning his devotion, and he can't allow such doubts to exist in his beloved's mind.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, mon ange." He swears. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

The certainty in his tone makes your heart beat faster, Hugo must appear a great actor to you in this moment. His fingers gingerly caress your hands, the trembling of his own having yet to cease. He doesn't think it will anytime soon, as being allowed to be in contact with your skin might as well be the same as getting a taste of heaven.

How many nights had he dreamt of holding the hands of the one promised to him, how many times had he wondered how the skin of his other half would feel under his. To be now standing in front of you still feels like an illusion, and your touch is the sole thing assuring him this is not yet another fantasy.

If unclear before, Hugo really meant it when he said you were his dream come true. Love had never been at the forefront of his mind before meeting you, he didn't think his destiny was geared in that direction. He had never experienced romantic attraction, and from an outsider's perspective, it felt like an hindrance that would distract him from his true purpose.

However, things tilted the moment he met you. Something changed deep within, even if he didn't understand then. He could swear he felt the tug of that red string on his pinky, making him aware of that world of romance he had never paid attention to before.

After meeting you, he discovered all sorts of fuzzy feelings he had deemed but a mere illusion.

And day by day, his love grew stronger, until the desire of living that dream planted itself deep in his core.

How foolish of him, to think love wouldn't be a part of his life. What is love if not a matter of destiny? Why would he not get a soulmate with whom he'd get to share his days. He finally understood it, there was someone meant for him too all along. And for you to evoke such intense feelings that spread in his chest like a wildfire... He was sure you were his one and only.

He can't believe he spent so much time alive without being able to enjoy the warmth from your presence. That he almost denied himself a life with the one who completed him, his other half.

It made want to pounce and confess the moment he realized, to hoard you like a treasure so you'd never be out of his sight. Trap you like a firefly in a lantern, watch you shine for hours on end knowing your light is his to witness.

You left him completely unraveled, emotion carving into his very being and turning him into something unrecognizable. He, a normally composed man, was left desperate and consumed by the desire of having you in his life, as soon as he could get you.

He wanted to ignore all pretenses of propriety and let you know immediately of the way you had shifted his purpose.

But even while vulnerable at the face of his new feelings, Hugo's rational enough to admit that'd be less than ideal.

Why? Because he knows you already belong to each other. If you're eventually going to be at his side, he'd rather not do something rash and delay your eventual relationship. The price for scaring you away is not something he wishes to pay. So he has to play in the hands of fate for some time, letting you keep your distance before you fall into his arms. He ought to perform his role accordingly, and wait for you to realize you're his like he did once.

How he yearns to hold you in his arms so tightly, to whisper sweet nothings to your ear as you fall asleep. But that'll come, eventually, as rushing could contort the path you're meant to walk together. So for now, he'd told himself he'd wait, keeping himself content with fantasies of what the future with you could be like.

If only he could remember that promise in this moment.

Alas, his love is too strong to be held back for long, specially when the ceremonial-like setting is making him feel like he's in one of his daydreams.

"You took so long to come around, my dear, running circles around me like frightened hare." He resumes speaking. "You did not have to fear, don't you see? I've been holding my arms open for you all along."

"Vivien..." You curse your slip, shaking your head slightly, "Um, I... wasn't sure if you'd still have me."

"And what gave you that impression?" He asks, his voice barely a rumble in the quiet of the room. "All I've ever done is wait for you."

You take a breath, trying to remember any line from your script and failing miserably. Continuing to improvise is growing more and more difficult, you don't know how he's been able to keep going so seamlessly. That's also because you're acting and he's not, but you remain unaware of that fact.

Hugo keeps staring deep into your eyes, his arms enveloping your frame and pulling you closer. You push through the haze of your mind, coming up with something to answer. "I was afraid you'd lose interest after the chase ended, or that something else would tear us apart."

His eyes soften imperceptibly, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. "So it's fear of separation that keeps you from loving me. Well, you do not need be afraid. Heaven and heaven alone could take you away from me, as we are fated to be."

"Vivien—" His name leaves your lips again, now more intentional than before. The closeness is making you dizzy, he can't seem pull away from you. With every word uttered, he tries to swallow up space, like he can't exist without your warmth after being allowed to get so near. And as if you never called, his bubble still doesn't burst.

"You understand now?" He breathes ever so softly, "It's stupid to fight this feeling, as life would find a way to lead us back together. I'd be a fool to ever leave you, and a fool I'd never be. You're more than life to me, my beloved—"

"...Hugo." You speak more firmly, the use of his last name hitting him like a bucket of cold water. Startled, his eyes widen slightly, their intensity dimming somewhat.

"...Yes?"

"You're going off script." You finally inform him.

Hugo slowly disentangles from you, taking once more a polite distance. He clears his throat, gaze averted as reality dawns upon him fully. "...I apologize. I forgot my lines and resorted to improvising."

You take a few seconds to compose yourself, processing whatever the hell just happened while Hugo stands there sheepishly. He almost wants to apologize again, not only for not sticking to his character in the play, but for missing his life role as well. Worry that he ruined it all by confessing prematurely consumes him... But as he lifts his concerned gaze to meet yours, he only sees joy.

"Vivien, that... that was beautiful." You whisper in genuine awe. "You're so incredibly good at acting, I'm amazed. I can't even be mad that you forgot your lines, since you could've fooled anyone into thinking you said the right thing. You got me doubting myself, even, and I wrote the script!"

An airy giggle escapes you, breaking the earlier tension. You look a bit unsure still, but excitement is overriding the earlier emotions easily.

Hugo's expression slowly calms, relief overwhelming his senses. He finds that sparkle in your eyes to be most hypnotizing.

"You conveyed emotions so flawlessly that it felt real. I think you should get the grade I'm going to be given when we present, i could barely keep up with you." You tease him lightheartedly.

"Don't sell yourself short, chérie. You are amazing at what you do, I give you my word."

"You're too kind, Vivi. Had I known you were improvising, I might have been able to act better— I'll give you that. I'll have to ask you to try and stick to the original at least a bit, though."

"I'm aware. I apologize again." he repeats solemnly.

You're fine, really," you turn around as you speak, reaching for your draft of the play and a pen, "You've actually helped me more by going off-script."

"By which you mean...?" Hugo takes a step closer, confusion laced in his tone.

Before he can question you further, you lift your work, turning your head back to look at him with a cheeky smile. "That I'll definitely take inspiration from your performance now, Vivi."

God bless your clueless soul... His slip up was literally covered by the fact that you're as dense as a rock.

But Hugo doesn't mind pretending a bit longer, if it makes you keep smiling at him like that.

"I'm glad I could be of help, chérie." The pet name still leave his lips effortlessly.

You nudge him playfully, taking a seat, "Don't call me that when we're not rehearsing, it's kinda cheesy."

Hugo nods, not complaining, sitting beside you in silence.

He doesn't mind pretending for some more,

You'll soon be as his as he is now yours.

Why? Because he knows that you're both from different worlds. And yet, the way you brush his bangs out of his face when you study together, and how your gaze lingers before you tear it away, has him hoping he might have a shot.

That, and Yuji telling him "she soooo has a crush on you" when he broke down and told him everything about his litlle predicament.

So he spent his night away writing a letter, knowing he wasn't good with words in person. He washed his hair you'd stared at so much, and decided to wear that cardigan you complimented once.

He drove to campus despite it being his free day, just because he knew you'd be there. Asked around if anyone had seen you, just to know for sure if you felt what he did.

However... the answer he gets is dissapointing, to say the least.

"Oh, her? Saw her talking to Naoya at the cafeteria," A random student replies. "He was probably asking her out for Gojo's party this weekend. It's a big thing, so people like to bring their flings and whatnot."

Oh, right. Gojo's party. The one he holds at the end of every semester. You had told him about it in passing, asked if he planned to go. He answered a vague 'maybe'— he'd gone last semester to pick his brother up, maybe he'd have do it again this year. The silence had stretched in that moment, before you awkwardly changed the topic. So you were really planning to go, and he had the chance to just ask you then... what a way to fumble.

"Naoya... asked her out?" Choso croaks weakly, his expression souring at the mention of that guy. He's a total asshole, but he's also popular in the frat and a total looker. Many girls go out of their way to flirt with him despite his reputation of not treating women right. He fears you too had fallen for his cheap charm.

To his despair, the guy nods. "I think so. He was looking smug and had his little entourage of frat boys surrounding him. Naoya actually bringing a girl to an event does sound interesting, I suppose."

"She wouldn't agree," He thinks out loud, trying to convince himself that he knows you enough to say that. But the student shrugs, saying he didn't see the end of it and that there's a good chance.

There's a good chance.

Choso's plans crumble under that thought.

He walkes away, going nowhere in particular. With earbuds on that play a gloomy tune, the letter in his bag suddenly feels too heavy to carry. Naoya's a douchebag, but he has influence. He was quicker than him, took the chance he didn't. And now Choso's publicly sulking while strollling through the campus, because a part of him is still hoping to see you.

At least, then, he'd be happy for a moment. He could just ask you, too... get his info from the direct source. He simply fears he won't be able to keep his mouth shut if you confirm, and begin badmouthing Naoya and make you hate him. He trusts you and wants to respect your choices, but his will is not that strong to let you go with the biggest idiot around without trying to advise you against it.

Ugh, this is the worst. Choso decides to just go home, but walks past the flower shop next to the campus' entrance. Naoya wouldn't bother getting you those. He's too self-absorbed to think of what you'd enjoy. But Choso? He had filed away in his mind the moment you told him about your favorite flowers, just casually. And he can't help but think that had he followed through with his plan, a bouquet would have been a great addition.

He gets absort in that idea, picturing the glee in your face as you receive those imaginary flowers.

He gets so, so deep in thought, that he can't help but think... What was it if not destiny, that made him go back in his way and stumble with the flower shop?

Choso already lost a few chances, but you're still somewhere in campus right now.

So before he can go against his true wishes, he says to hell with holding his peace with a situation he's not happy with and makes the gamble.

Choso leaves the flower shop with a huge bouquet in his hands. He asks around again (not ideal for the quiet boy, but he pushes through) and finds Shoko, a close friend of yours. With a smirk, she tells him you two just finished lunch together, and that she'll deliver the letter for him.

He does all this while holding the flowers against his chest, telling himself he's being secretive enough. The look in your friend's eyes says she knows exactly what's going on, though.

In the letter, Choso had asked you to meet him at a specific location to talk more about his feelings. This so you could give an answer to his face and settle things properly. Sure, he was supposed to give you the letter like an hour ago, giving himself time to prepare emotionally. He feels like he's in a tight deadline, but he's not backing out now.

He gets to the secluded spot soon, a beautiful green area where he likes to sit when he needs to kill time. He's pacing around this time, though. He has no experience with love and so far it's been nerve-wracking. A tap on his shoulder makes him get back to reality, turning around as fast as he can.

"Choso...?" Your soft, uncertain voice greets him, and he feels both a spike of panic and a sense of relief. It's weird, but that's just how you make him feel. Like a lovesick fever that just doesn't go away (...let's pretend he didn't once go to the infirmary to get himself checked for it).

"...Hi," He musters, face warming before you even say anything. His eyes are fixed on the floor, bracing himself for anything.

"You wrote me a letter," You start awkwardly, your tone frail and thin. He's avoiding looking at you, but he sees you fiddling with your thumbs from the corner of his eye. He wonders if this is weird for you or if you're just shy.

At your question, he only nods. This is harder than he thought. You shift your weight, taking a quiet breath before continuing. "You also brought flowers. The ones I told you I like. So... you really mean it, right?"

Choso straightens up immediately. "Of course. This is not a joke to me, nor I'm doing it because of the party or anything."

You tilt your head slowly, "The party...? What do you mean?"

"I mean, that I heard you got asked out by Naoya, so you could go together to Gojo's party." His voice takes a more serious tone, nerves forgotten as he commits to speaking his mind.

"So I feel like, by coming in the middle of you two, it may seem like I only did it out of jealousy, or to prove something. But that was just bad timing. I'd been thinking of telling you this for a while, and I believe you deserve to know even if you choose someone else."

Your draw a breath and try to speak, but he continues before you can. His eyes are closed and his mind focused, finally pouring out his heart like he intended to.

"I know that we just met this semester, but your presence is greatly pleasing to me. You don't... seem to think I'm weird, you don't settle for that. You actually took the time to get to know me, to listen, to be there for me. And I wanted appreciate that platonically, but I don't think I can anymore. So even if it ruins our friendship, I had to tell you."

You're stunned into silence, and for a moment, his worry returns. That is, until he opens his eyes to finally meet your gaze, as solemnly as he can through the gaps of the bouquet, and notices you blushing into oblivion.

"Are you okay?" Choso immediately springs into action, leaning closer to inspect you. Sure he's not that clueless, he knows people's faces grow hot from embarrassment as well, but he doesn't take chances and asks: "Do you feel sick?"

You shake your head frantically, covering your face with your hands. Had he known how affected you were, he would have waited for you to feel better, but he's already put you in a weird situation. He looks at you with those soft, utterly worried puppy eyes, and you almost combust right there.

"Choso, I..." You take yet another deep breath, gainig courage, "I've been hoping you ruined our friendship."

He stills at your words, the slight downturn on his lips betraying his sadness. "Why is that? I was hoping it also meant a lot to you?"

"You- It does! Gosh, you sure are oblivious..." you rub your temples, trying to calm down. "I meant that I'm also interested in you, I just didn't know how to tell you. I tried to say something so many times, but I kept backing out. I'm glad you told me."

"So you actually...?" He mutters, slowly catching on. And despite the softness of the moment, he can't help but follow up, "So you're not going with Naoya?"

That sobers you up real quick. "What? No! Ew, no. Him? The nerve he had to even ask. He's an idiot!"

He exhales, deeply relieved. "I am so glad you think the same. If you had told me you accepted, I would have tried to discourage you. That man doesn't know how to treat a woman right."

The implication that he, unlike the afore mentioned bastard, would know how to act well makes heat crawl up to your face. You can't help yourself from continuing to slander Naoya, though, softness pushed aside for the moment. "Right? And he's so shallow. He thought that because we were both popular around here, I'd say yes. I don't care about any of that, he was really stupid to believe such a thing."

Choso shifts his weight shyly at your comment, your eyes catching it. "Choso... did you also really think I'd say yes because of that?"

He lowers his head meekly, and you sigh. "You're something else, you know..."

A moment of silence passes, before you speak again. "For the record, I really don't care. That's why I talked to you anyway. It's really cold to pick and choose who to be with just because of popularity. There's great people to find everywhere."

Choso's eyes soften, your way of thinking is one of the things he likes about you. Makes him think that he shouldn't even have doubted that you'd reject him. At least he can make it up to you now.

"I would have told you to come with me, even as friends," you continued, "But I didn't know if you were interested in parties. When I asked you, and you said you might go, I thought... I thought you were going with someone else, and you didn't want to hurt me by saying it outright."

Choso looks at you like you just told him the sky is green. "...What? You're right, I don't like parties much. With who would I even...?"

"Wait. So you're not going with Yuki?" You blurt out.

"Huh? No! I barely know her." he shakes his head frantically. "Yuki's Todo's senior, so it's more Yuji's circle than anything. She just likes poking light fun of me when she sees me. About you, often, after we started talking."

"Oh, I thought..." You trail off. Yuki has a thing for making it look like's she's flirting with anyone she talks to. It's just how she is, you've never thought anything of it. But seeing her talk to Choso, who never talks to anyone who's not close... it made you think something else.

Was your thought process really affected just because you like him? This is mad embarrassing. She was teasing him about you, too, quietly playing matchmaker. The worst is that you're sure she knew what she was doing. Now you know why she asked you about your relationship with Choso with such curiosity.

You exhale, you'll face Yuki's playful smirk and hold a petty grudge against her later. Right now, Choso's staring at you intently, waiting for your attention.

"So you also thought I was going with someone else?" His lips curve up, "That's... silly, now that we cleared it up."

"Yeah, it'll be a fun story to tell." You can't help but smile as well.

"So... you want to go with me instead?" Choso asks softly, your heart skipping a beat at his tone. And the way his smile widens when you nod makes you feel like it may as well explode.

His face turns a pretty crimson, processing everything that's happened in the last few hours. He gently eases the bouquet into your arms, remembering he's been holding it the entire time from the slight numbness of his arms.

"Thank you," You mutter softly, hiding behind it.

And the rest of your day is spent between loving whispers and affectionate smiles.

At the end of that same week, you both get ready to attend the party.

Except you end up ditching it, not too eager to face Naoya who's been insulting you in your every social media app after rejecting him. You've blocked him in like five of those at this point. You're hoping he doesn't send you and email next (though you doubt he knows how to manage mail properly by himself).

Choso, of course, was happy with your choice. He wouldn't have minded if that's what made you happy, but he can think of many other places and activities for you two to spend the night doing.

So you both take your time and go through the list, trying out snacks, leaning on each other at the library, and setting up a reminder to pick Yuji up from the party once it starts getting late.

You take a picture of the two of you, soft launching your relationship to your close friends immediately. Just sneaking a picture of your face and Choso's hands with the book you're both checking out. For some reason, most of them recognize him immediately. Very few are surprised, though they're all supportive.

You stare at it for a moment, before turning back to Choso with a smile.

First date immortalized.

Let's hope for many more.

Yukimiya blinked in slight surprise, before smiling in light amusement. "Why is that? Did I hog the blanket unknowingly? Or did you dream I left you for one of my teammates, for whatever reason?"

"No... not this time." You shook your head, voice still small and groggy from sleep. Apparently, Yukimiya still remembered when you didn't talk to him because of that one dream. In your defense, when you watched the broadcast of the Blue Lock program, his teammates were always all over each other, too invested in competition for it to feel weirdly personal. Yukki wasn't in such scenes often, but your brain twisted it as it is known to do. Regardless, this time, it tried a different tactic.

"I dreamt something else, and I don't like how you acted in the dream." You added, crosssing your arms.

"Oh yeah? Do tell me," He probed, shifting on his side to look at you.

"Well... We were in a zombie apocalypse." You closed your eyes, recounting the dream in your mind.

"Strong start," Yukimiya commented humorously.

"...Except they weren't really like the zombies we know," You continued, "they just acted like ones. They smiled creepily and looked crazy, but didn't bite, kill and stuff."

"Are you sure they weren't just sleep deprived people?" He hummed, pulling you closer and against his chest.

"No, they were zombies, trust me." You argued drowsily, while he just nodded and cradled you against him—hoping you didn't remember you're trying to be mad at him.

"In the dream, we were discussing strategy with other survivors. I took out two chairs, one for you, one for me. Just so we could sit together. And you didn't even say thank you, you know." You grumbled, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke against his skin.

Well, this was way better than your past dreams. At least now you're only mad because his dream self wasn't as courteous as you wanted him to. He could compliment his way out way easily.

"Sorry about that, dear. Maybe my dream self was too worried about the apocalyptic catastrophe to catch on you trying to get my attention." Yukimiya apologized, the hint of sass well hidden in his tone as he rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"Well, you could have done more. I tried to impress you many times."

"In the middle of a strategic meeting to battle zombies."

"Still."

He smiled, "Well, continue."

"Soo, there was an outbreak, and the weird zombies were entering the house we were in. The group split up, and we were paired to defend an area." You pulled back enough to look at him, "So I started fighting them off while you remained sat like a little princess. And again, you didn't even say thank you!"

Yukimiya stifled a laugh at your little outburst, watching as you rolled away from him in the bed. He tried to scoot closer, your back facing him. "I thought you wanted to impress me? I was just watching you work."

"But you were practically ignoring me..." You groaned, not turning to face him even as his arms sneaked around your waist.

"...I was trying to mansplain to you about the zombies while fighting, but you just sat there in a trance. You joined me after I had taken out like, 50 of them, and didn't marvel at my extensive knowledge." You sulked.

"Cut a guy some slack, darling. It's the apocalypse." He teases as he turns you around. "What should I have said instead, my brave saviour?"

"The bare minimum, Yukki!" You took his hands, placing them on your cheeks like you were mimicking the scene. "'Wow, love, you know so much! Gosh, you're so good at fighting despite having no experience! You're so cool, let's get married before we all die!' that's it."

"Aren't you a joy to be around," He murmured to himself, pinching your cheeks. He kept speaking before you could protest. "I can still marry you, if that's what ails you so much. Except I'll propose to you in a meaningful way and moment, not in... a life threatening situation."

You remained quiet for a second, before sighing dramatically. "I'll let you off the hook this once."

"I'm forever grateful for your kindness, dear. I won't repeat my mistakes. If we're ever facing the end, I promise I'll rush to the front to protect you." He embraces you again, finally successful on holding you without you squirming around.

"And you'll flirt back when I do," You added.

"If you want me to," He conceded.

Silence lingered for a moment, the two of you enjoying each other's warmth before having to face the day. At least, until you perked up, looking at him like you forgot something.

"Oh! Before that, I dreamt that I had to flirt with a teammate of yours. Though he ignored me, and that was it."

Yukki remains silent for a moment, before shrugging.

"Maybe you deserved me ignoring you in your dream."

"Hey!"