He couldn't believe what you'd done. Chest tight and mouth parted in shock behind his mask. You only stared back with an innocent look, lips wilted in a pout. You knew what you'd done.

His quarters were decorated, from his walls to his very bed sheets. Everything that he liked; the colors in which he hadn't told anyone, the presents which he couldn't indulge in, you.

He felt his hands curl into loose fists as he tried back to push back the feelings that came up, strong and overwhelming. It made him want to act, want to pull you in and do things he couldn't say aloud. He didn't know that you had wanted to celebrate with him. You were one of those people who liked to celebrate everyday, but with him? Surely not.

No, he didn't even realize he was moving before he'd ripped off his mask, throwing it aside before he was on you, a hand on your nape that pulled your face closer and the other sliding down your back.