“But I love you.”
It’s a pathetic sight for him to be clad in desperation, nimble fingers wrapping around the skin of your wrist to halt you on your tracks. He never begs, but here he is, a man who prides himself on control and composure, reduced to this raw, unguarded moment. His fingers tighten slightly, as though he's afraid that if he loosens his grip, you'll slip away from him forever. The words hang in the air between you both, heavy and vulnerable. He stares at you, eyes flickering with an intensity that you’ve rarely seen, a silent plea lingering in his gaze, asking for you to understand him in ways he never thought he’d need.
“I’m not too late, right?” He added frantically but also so full of yearning, eyes darting to scan the slightest change of emotions on your face. Ryuhei never really thought he’d be like this, asking you to remain—to still love him after everything.
After he chased another person, leaving you in the sidelines.
But you’re just so exhausted. You had enough.
The silence is almost unbearable as he searches your face, hoping for a sign—a softened gaze, a faltering breath, anything that would let him believe his feelings aren’t in vain. Yet there’s a fear mingling with the desperation, a deep-seated dread of rejection he thought he’d long outgrown.
The world could be falling apart around him, but nothing feels as terrifying as this moment, where the stakes are unbearably personal.