Chuuya wasn’t sure what he had expected when you took him up on his offer for company after a bad day. Maybe he thought you’d open up, talk about whatever was bothering you–no, he hadn’t anticipated you’d end up in your car with heavy metal blaring from the speakers.

You were insistent that this genre of music, specifically, was the perfect meditation. You didn’t need to see a therapist when you could scream in your car.

Chuuya was admittedly surprised this is how things worked out, and not opposed at all, he couldn’t look away from you now. He couldn’t help admiring you like this, funnily enough. That small smirk pulls at his lips.