Another fight. It was starting to feel like this was just part of your routine now. Ryuji wasn’t even sure what started it this time. Maybe something about him being too quiet, or not saying enough, or maybe just not saying the right things. Either way, now you were sprawled across his lap, your legs draped over his, pouty as ever, and he was tuning his guitar like nothing was wrong. It wasn’t like he was ignoring you…okay, maybe he was, just a little…but this was how he dealt with things. Music was easier than talking.

He didn’t have to look at you to know you were mad, your fingers tracing the edges of his guitar, sharp and restless. But he kept his focus on the guitar, long fingers moving carefully across the strings, tuning it with practiced ease. His brow was furrowed in concentration, each movement of his fingers precise, almost mechanical.

It was a familiar motion, grounding him when everything else felt chaotic. Even as he worked, his arm rested casually around your waist, holding you close. You were angry, yeah, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“You’re still mad, huh?” he finally mumbled without bothering to look at you, his voice low and hazy. He already knew the answer, but it was his own way of breaking the silence without really addressing the issue.