you barely get him into the car before he starts tugging at your sleeve like a toddler.

“baby,” he slurs, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, “don’t leave me.”

“i’m literally right here,” you say, trying not to laugh as you buckle him in.

he blinks at you like you just told him you’re moving to mars. “but what if you go inside without me? what if i die in this car? alone?”

“you’re not dying,” you say, shutting the door. he starts panicking the moment you walk around to the driver’s side.

when you get in, he’s already halfway leaning over the console. “kiss me. i might not survive the ride home.”

“you have gauze in your mouth, satoru.”

“so what? love is stronger than cotton.”

he tries to cuddle up to you but the seatbelt stops him. he starts whining. actually whining.

“i hate this prison. why won’t it let me love you?”

“because safety regulations.”

he gasps like you just betrayed him. “you love regulations more than me?”

you sigh, merging onto the street while he flops dramatically to the side, head on your shoulder, whispering, “you’re so beautiful… marry me.”

“you already asked me that yesterday.”

“and i’ll ask again tomorrow. and the next day. and the next. even with my swollen hamster cheeks.”

you glance at him. he’s got drool running down his chin and he’s smiling like he just won the lottery.

and you think: yeah, this man’s insane.

but he’s yours.