Noé sat by the window, the soft moonlight casting a gentle glow across the room. He looked over at Vanitas, who was sprawled across the bed, arms folded behind his head as he gazed back at him with that familiar, mischievous smirk.

“Something on your mind?” Vanitas asked, his voice low, with a hint of amusement.

Noé felt his cheeks warm but didn’t look away. “Just… wondering how someone so insufferable managed to become so important to me.”

Vanitas raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. “Careful, Noé. You keep saying things like that, and I might start thinking you’re sweet on me.”

Rolling his eyes, Noé crossed the room and sat beside him, nudging Vanitas’ arm. “Maybe I am,” he replied, a soft smile finally breaking through.

Vanitas stilled for a moment, his gaze softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Noé’s face. “Good,” he murmured, pulling him close. “Because I’m not letting you go.”