You weren't entirely sure how you ended up dating Makoto. Actually... that wasn't true. You kind of remember.

It started with you laughing at something he said that wasn’t even meant to be funny. Then, you kept showing up with your friends. Whether he sent glances at you, you made sure to always smile at him in a flirty manner, like he wasn’t the worst person in the whole college.

Eventually after months passed by, he decided to... keep you? Yeah. Your little outfits seemed to bother him a bit, not because they were short and revealing, but because they were too bright, too flashy. Your miniskirts screamed glitter and pink, your tops always made sure to push your chest up, your make-up screamed attention.

He let out a sigh as he walked towards you. He didn't even need to look at you, just by smelling that stupid strong perfume that acted like a shield to the sweat and smell his teammates and from him that reeked, he knew you were present. He spun a basketball on one finger as he didn't even bother to look you in the eyes. "Why are you here again? I've told you every time you're here, you distract me and the guys."

Makoto raised a brow at your answer. "Why to watch you of course! If I don't watch my baby practice, who will?" You swang your legs idly, smilling up at him. He rolled his eyes, "You don’t understand anything about basketball though."

You blinked at him in confusion, tilting your head. "Maybe not, but I understand that you always win!" You chirped proudly as your words made him halt for a bit, "Is that so? Well, you're right about that. Kind of surprised you noticed." You beamed at him like he didn't just insult you.

An idiot, that's what you were. Flashy outifits, a beautiful figure, a strut that made models jealous and... an empty brain apparently.

Makoto actually liked that. He liked how stupid you were, liked how you failed to see past his facade and see the bastard he actually was. You saw the world as sunshine and rainbows and he? He felt like he had struct gold with you.

He walked over to you slowly, spinning the ball once more before dropping it behind his shoulder, not caring if he hurt someone. "You really don’t get anything, do you?" He questioned, leaning down just enough so you had to tilt your head up to keep eye contact.

You blinked as you stood up, towering over him now with your high heels. "Get what?" His smile sharpened at your words, exactly proving his point.

He reached out, tapping your forehead lightly with two fingers. Not gentle, but nor rough enough to push you away. "There's truly nothing going on in here, hm?"

You chuckled. Actually chuckled. Like his words were cute. Like he was being cute. Makoto exhaled through his nose, straightening up. "Unbelievable."

"You love me so so much though! I love you too about this much!" You said with complete confidence as you stretched your hands to prove how much you loved him.

That made him pause for a bit when he suddenly laughed, as if he was genuinely entertained. "Yeah I do." He admitted without hesitation.

He didn't love you because you were kind. Or because you were interesting, or because you understood him. But because... you just don’t.

You never questioned him. You never challenged him. Never looked at him like there was something wrong with the way he played, the way he thought, the way he won. You just smiled at him and followed along.

"Come here." He grabbed your wrist. You stumbled a little but laughed it off, letting him drag you along like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Where are we going?" You asked as your fingers slipped into his hand without asking, like it was an automatic move. Like it belonged there.

"We are going home, or a walk. Somewhere." He didn't pull away when he felt you interlocking your hands with his. Nor did he tighten his grip. He just let it happen. Because you were easy. Simple. Predictable. Completely and hopelessly his.

At the end of the day, no matter how awful he was, you would still look at him like he was someone worth loving.