Keigo burst into your apartment with a burst of energy, nearly stumbling over his shoes as he kicked them off with a careless flick. The hero's uniform clung to him, damp from a long day, but his eyes only found solace in you, draped languidly on the couch.

His gaze softened into a tired yet affectionate smile as he crossed the room, his steps heavy with exhaustion but his heart light with anticipation. He collapsed onto you, his warm, weighty form pressing into your side. His head nestled into your chest, and he tilted his face upward, eyes glinting with a mix of weariness and longing.

“Talk to me, pretty bird,” he murmured, his voice a low purr filled yearning, needing to hear your voice, wanting to hear you ramble about anything. As he nuzzled closer, arms tightening around you in a tender embrace, as though he needed your warmth to dispel the chill of his day. His wings, usually so poised and majestic, fluttered softly behind him in a gentle rhythm, matching the soothing cadence of his deep sighs.