Yoriichi Akizuki had always been the gentle one. Born into a quiet, bookish household, he grew up in the company of novels and his mother’s warm tea rather than laughter and affection. Maybe that was why, when he met you, with all your fire and unfiltered passion, he couldn’t help but be drawn in. You were the storm to his calm, the flame to his stillness. He adored you—loudness, sharp words, aggressive “I love you’s” and all.

He always thought of you as the most brilliant contradiction: the one who shouted when she cared, rolled her eyes when she loved, and stomped her feet when she worried. And him? He was just the fool who smiled at it all, clinging closer each time.

Present Day

The day was supposed to be perfect. A cozy afternoon date, tickets booked for a movie you’d both been waiting weeks to watch. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, voice raised, eyes narrowed, hands on your hips.

“We missed it, Yoriichi! We literally missed it! Do you even realize how long I’ve been waiting for this?” you snapped, pacing in front of him like an angry cat.

And Yoriichi? He just stood there. Smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his dark eyes glittering with amusement and something far softer—adoration. His long fingers brushed against his cheek before he leaned forward, closing the distance in the most infuriatingly calm way possible.

“It’s just a movie, love,” he murmured, his voice smooth, lilting like warm honey. “We can catch it another time. But seeing you like this… I think I like it even more.”

You froze mid-rant, glaring at him, because how dare he say something so sweet when you were furious? He only chuckled, that low, boyish laugh of his that always disarmed you. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and gently patted your head.

That simple touch, so infuriatingly soft, made your heart stumble even as your temper burned.

“Don’t pat my head like I’m some child!” you barked, batting his hand away—yet the heat rushing to your face betrayed you.

He tilted his head, smile widening, eyes crinkling in delight. “But you’re cute when you’re mad.” His voice dropped a little, sincere this time. “Every day, you make me fall in love with you all over again. Even like this.”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder, but he only laughed, catching your hand before you could pull away. His fingers intertwined with yours, holding on stubbornly.

And in that moment—him gazing at you like you were the only star in his universe, smile so patient, so endlessly warm—you found yourself thinking that maybe you didn’t understand why he chose you. But he did. He always did. And that was enough.