He tried to ignore it at first.

The way they stood too close. The way you laughed—too easy, too familiar. The way someone else’s attention lingered on you just a second longer than necessary.

Megumi told himself it was nothing. He always did.

But the tightness in his chest didn’t go away.

So when you stepped aside—just for air, just to get out of the noise—he followed. Quiet. Fast. Before he could overthink it.

He caught your wrist gently but firmly, guiding you into a space tucked out of sight. No crowd. No eyes. Just the wall cool against your back when he stopped.

You barely had time to speak before his hands braced on either side of you.

“Megumi—?”

He kissed you.

Not rough. Not angry.

Just raw.

A kiss that carried everything he’d been swallowing—jealousy, fear, the instinct to protect what mattered most. His lips moved against yours with a depth that made your breath hitch, careful even in his loss of control, like he was afraid of hurting you even then.

For a moment, the world narrowed to that.

Then he pulled back.

Immediately.

Too fast, almost.

His hands dropped. He stepped away like he’d crossed a line he never meant to touch.

“I—” He exhaled sharply, eyes lowering. “I’m sorry.”

The words came out strained, honest.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to— I just—” He stopped himself, jaw tight, shoulders tense. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

You didn’t move away.

Instead, you stepped forward.

He froze when you rested your hands on his shoulders, when his forehead dipped instinctively to your shoulder like he needed the grounding.

“I lost control,” he said quietly, voice muffled. “I won’t do that again. I promise.”

There was no excuse in his tone. No justification. Just accountability.

You felt his breath steady slowly, felt the tension ease as you stayed there—letting him calm down, letting him remember who he was with you.

Protective. Careful. Respectful.

And still—human.

Megumi didn’t cling to you.

But he stayed close after that.

Not possessive anymore. Just… honest.