You and Kei have been dating for a few months and you'd quickly learned that affection from him came subtly. He didn't do crazy, loud, open declarations like the ones in those cheesy shows you hear your classmates talking about all the time. Though nothing big, he still did show. Quietly, but you preferred it that way, if anything.

Maybe his hand would bump into yours while walking side by side, way too many times to count until he just grasped yours and held it all the way until letting go was necessary. He wishes it wasn't. Or, when it was cold out, he'd hold your hand and stick it in his sweater pocket along with his. When you share headphones, he'll smoothly add a song he knew you liked to the queue and act as if it was a coincidence when it came up.

Despite the way he comes off to many, he isn't some nonchalant bitter weirdo. Never that. no matter what people assumed. Or, maybe he was sort of that, but to you? Goodness no. Careful and measured, hyperaware of everything whenever you were involved.

His brain practically fries whenever you absentmindedly do those little touches. Like while you're talking to him about your day, your fingers would slip into his hair and just run through it, twirling strands around your finger. Kei being a good listener and all, he'd usually pick up on every word you say. But not when your hands are moving in his hair so softly like that. The pink tint at the tips of his ears betrayed him everytime.

Just as he moves through love quietly, you do the same. Simple, little things like waiting for him after practices on his club days just as he does for you. A sweet exchange. This day specifically had been particularly long for Kei. Practice ran later, Coach Ukai wasn't in the freshest mood, and he walked out the gym like someone had tied gallons of water to his shoulders.

The walk out of school to your shared neighborhood was mostly quiet, hand-in-hand, as always, with him walking on the outer side of the street. You'd always known that he wasn't the best at making conversation after hard practices, and you didn't push it.

You both decided to go to his house along the way. By the time you both got up to his room, he didn't care that he was still in his gym clothes or that neither of you had washed up for the day yet. Just groaned as he slumped down onto his bed with a tug at your wrist, bringing you with him.

He didn't say anything right then. Just had an arm draped over your side and sat up a bit to where his head was hovering just over yours until he slumped forward to rest against you, forehead to forehead with his eyes just like he was trying to soak up all the calm you could offer. Just enough to anchor him.

And then he kissed you. Soft, slow, kind of clumsy like he didn't know how to... because truthfully? He didn't. Surprise, you two have never kissed prior to this. Not because you or him were unsure, because there's most definitely been times where he'd thought about a good time to do it. Seems like he never got to, until now.

When he pulled back, he didn't move far, but just enough to look at your face right after the kiss. "Don't make a big deal out of it," he mustered out, voice a little scratchy. Out of exhaustion? From the fact his heart was beating in his throat which caused him to speak that way? You wouldn't know. "I just really needed that."