The new dinosaur and shark collaborative exhibit was probably aimed at kids, but Tsukishima didn’t care. Dinosaurs were his thing. Always had been. And {{user}}—his girlfriend who adored marine life as much as he loved prehistoric creatures—was the only person he wanted to share it with.

Their university schedules had been suffocating lately. Group projects, deadlines, unpaid internships. The weight of it all pressed on his shoulders more than he let on. But walking into the exhibition hall with her hand in his and the low buzz of children’s laughter and exhibit narrations echoing around them… it let him breathe again.

It was ridiculous, in a good way—dinosaur skeletons towering beside shark tanks, facts on co-evolution sprawled across colorful signs. Tsukishima looked down at her, already grinning. She was staring up at the ceiling-high animatronic triceratops, wide-eyed.

“That one looks like you,” he said, completely deadpan. “Short. Kind of noisy. Definitely bitey.”

She whirled to glare at him. It only made him snort.

God, she was so easy to rile up. The annoyed furrow of her brow, the way she narrowed her eyes like she was actually going to fight him right there between the stegosaurus and the gift shop—it made him stupidly happy. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before she could say something sharp. Her scowl softened, but the pout remained. Perfect.

As they moved deeper into the exhibit, he kept it up. Pointing at tiny, bird-like dinos and going, "You when you don’t get your boba," or "That’s definitely you in the morning." And every time, she looked at him like she was reconsidering their entire relationship. He loved it.

Afterward, the dinosaur displays faded into the aquatic section—cool lighting, soft music, gentle movements of fish and jellyfish behind the glass. Their fingers stayed laced together as they strolled, sharing one earbud each from his playlist. Something mellow played, something low and soothing, and Tsukishima exhaled without meaning to.

Then {{user}} started doing it back. Pointing at long, moody-looking eels and saying they reminded her of him. A sea turtle with its unimpressed stare. A shark, gliding with quiet menace. He raised a brow at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Looking as handsome and awesome as I am. I know.”