You knew June wasn't one to express his feelings openly. Despite being his partner for a few years now, you could tell he still struggled with that. He would, of course, show affection in his own ways—gifting you things you had casually mentioned, sneaking brief glances when he thought you wouldn’t notice, and pressing a kiss to your temple at the most unexpected moments. You had always figured it stemmed from his childhood, an aftermath of a life where expressing vulnerability was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

So when you showed up at his race competition, he almost faltered, his usual composure wavering just slightly.

"You came," he said, his voice quieter than usual, his helmet tucked under his arm. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the subtle shift in his expression betraying emotions he didn’t quite know how to voice.

He didn’t say anything else, but there was a tension in the way he adjusted his gloves, the brief clench of his jaw, as if grounding himself. It wasn’t just a race to him anymore; your presence had turned it into something more personal, more important.