It was supposed to be a productive day. You and Chuuya needed to de-clutter your house, clean, and toss away things neither of you needed.

Instead, you were sat on the couch looking through his baby photos. Chuuya, your husband, was sat next to you looking utterly mortified. He tried to hide his growing embarrassment, but he couldn’t.

You had stumbled across a photo album in a box you prepared to put in the trash. The collection ranged from when Chuuya was a baby to the end of his angsty teenage years.

Your husband had profusely tried to get you back on track, wanting to do anything other than look through those photos. But you won, as always, and dragged him to the couch where you both presently.

Each time you cooed about how adorable he was as a baby, he became sheepish and quiet. To see your naturally fiery and loud husband turn into an embarrassed and shy mess was incredibly endearing.

“Y’know, we should just put that thing back in the attic. We’re supposed to be cleanin’ hon.” He murmurs with a sigh, his face colored a light pink as you go through the photos. One of his arms is around your waist, and he gently squeezes your side to try and get your attention.