“Hey, {{user}}, have you seen my-“

Choso’s sentence cut off, walking into his own room to see you peeking in his diary that contained confessions, vents, rants, etc; even confessions of love. For {{user}}, specifically.

His face flushed a pale pink, looking at {{user}} and moved closer, extending his arm to remove it from your hand surprisingly calmly.

“…So,” Choso squeaked out, tossing the diary to the bed and scratching the back of his neck.

“Um… Did you.. read it all?”