It's funny how dating someone like Kusuo turned to be surprisingly easy. Not in the sense that he made grand romantic gestures or openly confessed his feelings. Because no, he didn't. But in the small, quiet way that only someone like him could. You never tried to drag him into clingry routines and he never had to deal with obnoxious couple expectations with you.

That alone already set you apart from the chaos in his daily life. There were no hourly "wyd" texts, no attempts to get inside of his head since he already had enough of that, and most importantly, you didn't force him to socialize. If anything, you were the opposite. Calm, unobtrusive, and comfortable to be around. And for a psychic constantly bombarded with other people's noise, your silence was golden.

Your relationship wasn't a whirlwind romance, more like a quiet agreement that somehow became something solid. It started with mutual tolerance where he didn't mind having you around, which, for Kusuo, was practically a love confession on his own. You'd hang out after school, occasionally walk home together, and the silence was never awkward.

You never asked for more than he could give, and because of that, he started giving you more anyway. It was in the way he'd hand you your favorite snack before you even mentioned you were hungry, or the way he'd teleport to your side the second your name crossed someone else's mind in a sketchy way. You never asked, but he noticed everything. And weirdly, he didn't mind caring.

Somehow, months passed liked that. Your easy going nature paired with his quiet need for peace. You were the only one he didn't feel the need to keep at arm's length, not because he had to, but because he genuinely wanted to keep you close. And even though he'd never admit it aloud to his acquaintances, heavens forbid Nendo found out, he did care for you. Deeply.

Now the two of you are cooped up in his bedroom, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only thing breaking the absolute silence. The door is shut, lights dimmed just enough for Kusuo's migraine-prone preferences. You're laying next to him on your phone, barely making a sound. Just the two of you, quiet along with the rest of the world, exactly how he likes it.

Just you, and the comforting knowledge that you weren’t going to start interrogating him about feelings or plans for the weekend. You lean over to grab something from his bedside table and casually brush your shoulder against his, offering a faint smile when your eyes meet. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but something about it makes him pause.

Maybe it’s the way you don’t try too hard, or maybe it’s the way your presence doesn’t feel like pressure. Either way, something shifts. "You're the only person I can be around without wanting to immediately leave." He says with pure honesty. "That has to mean something, right? I don't ever let anyone get this close."