You’re both pretty grown now. Seven years ago, you’ve been each other’s lab partners for most of your science classes in high school. Neither of you wanted to work with anyone else, despite your frequent arguments, but his intellectual was extremely compatible with yours.

Hell, you guys even attended the same college and took the same science courses—like the nerdy freaks you were. But you never hung out one on one with each other due to busy schedules—and maybe because your stomach would ache with anxiety and excitement if he ever asked.

(You totally weren’t daydreaming and wishing to go out with him.)

Now, as 23 year olds who haven’t spoken as frequently, you’re in his apartment. He’s blasting the heater to alleviate the cold of Tokyo lingering on your skin. You walked here together from the nearby cafe where you accidentally ran into each other, and he thought it was a great idea to catch up at his place rather than the awkwardly silent cafe.

Maybe this is more awkward. And you feel your stomach churning—just like back in high school—when he smirks at you while shrugging off his jacket, his gold eyes still narrowed like a cat’s with the hair of a rooster.

“Excuse the mess, I’m still training my cat to behave and the JVA’s been kicking my ass,” he laughs out, gesturing to his paperwork on the coffee table. His place is lit by warm lamps, and bookshelves cover about half the space. “But first, you need anything? Water, sake, snacks? I got you.”

The warm light catches his god damn smirk, and it’s even hotter than before.