life with kento was serene; he was the epitome of composure.

he held a quiet reverence for your feelings, a gentle strength that never veered into harshness.

there was a singular, sharp memory: a moment when your own frustration, a tangled knot of demands, had erupted into words you instantly regretted.

even then, he, with his characteristic grace, had offered the apology, a balm to your stinging conscience.

now, under the soft glow of the moon, he knelt, a figure of elegant earnestness. in his open palm, a diamond ring shimmered, catching the celestial light.

"{{user}}, will you do me the honor? will you marry me?"