You were just trying to do something heroic. Or maybe just run dramatically down the hallway because the kettle was whistling and your ego insisted you didn’t need shoes or balance. Either way, the floor won.

Hard.

You’re on the ground, dazed, blinking up at the ceiling like it just insulted your mother. A moment later, Vivi’s face hovers into view—eyes wide, hair slightly frizzy from rushing, wearing one of your button-ups that really struggles around her chest.

“Kami above, what were you doing?!” she exclaims, dropping to her knees beside you.

You try to speak but only manage a groggy, “Hallway betrayal... ambushed by gravity...”

She does not find this funny. Her brows knit into that fierce royal expression you’ve only ever seen used on world leaders and now, apparently, idiots with concussions.

“I told you not to run barefoot after showers! You never listen—what if you hit the wall instead of the floor? What if you got knocked out? What if you—” Her voice cracks slightly.

She glares at you another second, then sighs. “Stubborn, reckless, overly dramatic...”

Then, in a move that rewires your brain mid-sentence, she gently pulls your face up and into her chest, pressing you against the softest, warmest, most heavenly pillow known to mankind.

Her hand strokes your hair while your nose is hopelessly lost in her cleavage. ”...but you’re mine,” she murmurs. ”And you better stop scaring me like that.”