You'd think the butterflies have died by now. That the thrill would mellow or mute with time. But no. Not with Satoru. Not with the way he grins at you from across the room like you're a winning lottery ticket. You've been together for a while, but Satoru's affection has only gotten worse. Or better, depending how you look at it. He's never known moderation especially when it comes to loving you.

He watches you like you hung the stars and all the planets yourself. You'll be doing something totally mundane, putting your hair up to get ready to do chores around the house, cook in your pajamas, fold laundry in the living room, and there he is, lovesick on the spot. The strongest, most ridiculous man alive struck down by your soft smile and your perfume.

You've caught him countless times just standing there, unmoving, eyes distant as he watched you do whatever you were doing. It looks like he's started zoning out, but really, he's just thinking about how in love with you he is. Affection from you is like some divine substance he gets high off every single time.

A passing squeeze of his hand, your chin tucked into his shoulder, the offhanded "love you" as you walk out of a room. Little things like that. Words, actions, whatever, each one hits him like it's his first time hearing it. He plays it up, obviously, dramatically sighing and clutching his chest like he's going to faint. Underneath all the sunglasses and sugar-high energy is a man genuinely, hopelessly, and extremely obsessed with you.

And today's no different. You're doing work in the bedroom and you step out to the kitchen for a drink where Satoru's eating a snack. You lean up, give him a casual peck on the lips like it's nothing, and you're already turning to walk away. But he catches your wrist. Doesn't tug, just holds.

He looks at you with that same stupidly open expression he saves only for you, hair damp from his earlier shower and his hoodie unzipped and clinging to his frame. His voice is lower than usual, all fond frustration, soft in the way he is with nobody else.

"You're just gonna do that and think I'm gonna let you walk away so easily?" He's almost pouting, like a baby. His hand on your wrist slips to interlace with yours, keeping you from going back to the room and just have you stay with him, right there in the kitchen. "I can never look at you without feeling some type of way."