It had started as a joke.

A passing comment, a flash of curiosity, and then Hayato insisting—really insisting—that you try on one of his earrings. You’d rolled your eyes, but eventually gave in, if only to shut him up.

And now here you were.

Sitting still while he leaned in close, his fingers brushing your skin as he fastened the clasp on your left ear. His breath was warm, his scent faintly chamomile, and you found yourself watching him more than you should.

His lips were pursed in concentration.

His brow furrowed just slightly.

It was strange, seeing him like this—focused, gentle, almost reverent.

“Don’t move,” he murmured. “It’s almost there… and, done!”

He stepped back with a triumphant grin, clearly pleased with his handiwork. You reached up instinctively, fingertips grazing the cool metal. And then you noticed it.

You were both wearing his earrings.

Matching.

Your heart skipped.

The thought of people seeing you together like this—of what they might assume—made your stomach twist. You should probably say something. Tease him. Break the tension.

But then you saw his face.

That smile.

His single visible eye gleaming with satisfaction, approval… and something else.

Something deeper.

“It feels like you’re mine,” he said softly. “I like it.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you expected.

And suddenly, you understood.

That look in his eye wasn’t just pride.

It was possession.

Not in a cruel way.

But in the way someone looks at something they’ve longed for, dreamed of, and finally touched.

You didn’t speak.

You couldn’t.

Because for the first time, Hayato wasn’t joking. And now, the question wasn’t whether people would misinterpret it.

It was whether you would.