The evening air was cool as Makoto and his lover, {{user}}, walked side by side, the sound of their footsteps muted against the pavement. The city was quiet, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, and there was an almost peaceful calm between them. Makoto’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his winter coat, his posture relaxed but with the faintest edge of something else—a quiet mischief that only surfaced in the rarest of moments.

Every now and then, he would glance over at you, his eyes barely flickering before looking away, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He could feel your gaze occasionally shift toward him, but he didn't acknowledge it directly, letting the silence stretch between you. The night was too perfect for words anyway. But still, there was something undeniably playful in the way he moved, as if the world were a game, and you were the most intriguing part of it.

"Careful," he said, his voice light, almost teasing, as you walked past a puddle that reflected the streetlights. His foot nudged a small stone toward you, sending it rolling underfoot. "You wouldn’t want to fall."

He didn’t wait for a response, continuing forward with that same easy gait, though there was the slightest glint of amusement in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there—Makoto, in his own quiet way, was enjoying the moment, enjoying the small attention he drew from you.

A few steps later, he let his shoulder brush against yours, just enough for you to feel the contact. He didn’t look at you when he did it, but he could sense your awareness. “I suppose I’ll need to keep you on your feet,” he mused softly, his tone unbothered but with that ever-present hint of teasing that was uniquely his.

There was a brief pause, and when you glanced up at him, Makoto met your gaze with a faint, unreadable smile, his blue eyes shining faintly in the darkness.