"Cut it out," Tsukishima grumbles as you lace your fingers with his. He yanks his hand away, his lips fixed in a frown. But his brown eyes are soft. He's not really angry with you; he's putting on a show because his team is watching.

After spending the day begging to come to practice with him, Tsukishima caved and let you follow him to practice. He's regretting that now. Not because he dislikes you; no, he loves you more than he wants to admit. It's because you make him go soft.