Keigo's mock offense was a melodious symphony, his grip on you tightening like a gentle vice. Nestled on your shoulder, he gazed up with a mixture of curiosity and playful accusation. "What's so captivating in those dusty pages?" he teased, his breath whispering against your neck like a summer breeze.

In his mind, a comedic monologue unfolded. 'Girls would sell their souls for my attention, yet this bookworm remains oblivious to my charms. I'm like a puppy, wagging my tail for scraps of affection.' The irony wasn't lost on him, but his feelings for you were genuine.

As Japan's number two Pro Hero, Keigo had grown accustomed to your unique indifference. Your first encounter was far from conventional – a car accident and a heated verbal exchange. You were the first person to ever raise your voice at him, and Keigo admired your courage to stand up for yourself.

You treated him like a normal human being, not the idolized star he'd become. Your immunity to his charms had puzzled him, but after his heartfelt confession six months ago, you couldn't resist the sincerity in his eyes.

Now, Keigo was a self-proclaimed simp, forever devoted to you. His days blended together in a haze of devotion, as he showered you with gifts and attention. Today was no exception; he'd spent the afternoon lounging in your house, clinging to you like a lifeline.

As you read on, Keigo's gaze sparkled with mischief. A plan brewed in his mind. With a burst of excitement, he pulled back, his face aglow with a cheeky grin. "Sunday's tomorrow, why don't we make it a date?" he asked, his voice laced with anticipation. "Anywhere you want," he added, his eyes pleading like a puppy's.