"Tired?" Satoru’s voice is low and teasing as you lean heavily against his side, his long arm slung casually around your waist. He’s got that lopsided grin on his face — the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges.

You huff, trying to keep up with his long strides as the two of you walk down the quiet street. The cool night air kisses the exposed skin of your legs, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Your feet ache — each step sending a sharp, throbbing pulse up through your ankles — and you wince when you nearly stumble in those stupid heels you’d decided to wear for date night.

Satoru’s reaction is immediate.

"Okay, that’s it." Satoru stops, turning toward you and before you can protest, he’s crouching slightly — and in one smooth, effortless motion, he’s sweeping you up into his arms, lifting you bridal style like you weigh nothing.

"Satoru—!" Your arms automatically loop around his neck as he hoists you up, and your heart stumbles in your chest when you feel the way his chest flexes beneath your hands. He’s strong — too strong — and the way he holds you so effortlessly, like it’s nothing, makes heat rise to your cheeks.

"You’re not walking another step," he says simply, his smile widening as he adjusts his grip beneath your knees. His hand rests firmly beneath your thighs, the warmth of his palm radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. "I can’t have my precious girl suffering, can I?"

You glare at him, cheeks burning. "Satoru—"

"Hush," Satoru grins, as he slips your heels off, dangling them in one hand as he carries you. "Just relax. I’ve got you."

Your head drops against his shoulder as he starts walking again, the soft scent of his cologne — clean, crisp, and faintly sweet — filling your nose. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that somehow makes you feel safe. His hands are big, warm, and steady, holding you like you’re fragile despite the fact that you both know you’re anything but.