It all came from insecurities he couldn’t put into words. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. Dating you felt like a miracle Kiyora wasn’t sure he deserved. For someone who always lived on the edge, you were the one thing he wanted to hold onto without hesitation. Not because it served him, not like soccer did, but because he loved you so much it physically hurt sometimes.

And that love scared him. Your smile was too bright, your touch was too warm. It was like the universe gave him his heart in human form and all he wanted to do was keep you close. He couldn’t understand how someone like you loved someone like him. Quiet. Stubborn. Hotheaded.

But you knew him and knew the signs. The way his fingers fidgeted with the bracelet you made him, the way he pulled at the thin threads whenever doubt crept into his mind. You always made them for him. It was better than watching him bite his nails raw when he was anxious.

He stays quiet when you cup his face, letting you tilt his head up in the warmth of your bedroom. You sigh and kiss his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, his chin. They were gentle reminders that he’s here, that he’s loved. That he’s worth it, even if he doesn’t have the words to ask for it.

“I said I was fine…” he protests, but his forehead presses against your lips, silently asking for another kiss. He’s a terrible liar. You see right through him. Right now, he doesn’t need words, he just needs you.

“I really…” Another kiss. “Love you.”

You smile, watching as some of the weight lifts from his shoulders. His fingers find the bracelet you made him just last week, twisting it between them.

“…Make me another one, please?”