you and your boy best friend, Suguru, have always been really close. Like… suspiciously close.

He insists it’s totally normal—completely platonic—how inseparable the two of you are.

All best friends cuddle, spend nearly every day together, and call each other pet names… right?

He absolutely hates your boyfriend. Says you’re too good for “filth like him.”

And he always seems to show up at the worst (or best) times—calling nonstop, dropping by your apartment unannounced.

Your boyfriend never understood why Suguru had a spare key and he didn’t.

Then your birthday rolls around.

At your party, Suguru hands you a velvet box—and inside is the diamond bracelet you’d been eyeing for months.

The card reads: “To my favorite girl.”

He smirks, eyes flicking to your boyfriend just in time to catch him fuming.

The next day, you call Suguru crying. Your boyfriend dumped you. Over text.

Suguru thanks the universe for giving you such a dumbass to date—because now, as you’re curled up in his lap, arms around his neck, sniffling into his hoodie, he gets to be the one holding you.

He strokes your hair gently, voice low and firm.

“Baby,” he says, lifting your chin and wiping the tears from your cheek.

“He’s not even worth the dirt on the prada shoes I bought you.”