“Rent’s coming up soon… do you have the money? ’Cause I sure don’t.”

Toji’s voice cut through the quiet of the apartment, lazy and unbothered as he remained slouched on the floor in the living room, one arm resting over the back of the couch. He hadn’t even looked up from his phone when he spoke, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

You didn’t respond. Not because you hadn’t heard him, but because you were already irritated enough as it was. No gift, no kiss, no simple “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.” Not even a damn acknowledgment that today was supposed to mean something. And Toji knew—it wasn’t like the day had snuck up on him. You’d mentioned it in passing a few days ago, dropping hints about something nice, something thoughtful. But of course, Toji being Toji, had brushed it off like it was nothing.

Your hands moved diligently, scrubbing at the dishes in the sink with more force than necessary, your jaw tight as you let the silence stretch. If he was oblivious to your mood before, he wouldn’t be for long.

A sigh. Then the shuffle of fabric as he got to his feet. You could hear the way he lazily padded over to you, his steps slow and heavy.

A warm hand landed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly before he turned you to face him. He looked rough—hair tousled, clothes rumpled, the faintest hint of sleep still in his expression. His sharp green eyes scanned your face, taking in the pout of your lips and the way you avoided his gaze.

“What’s got you all pissy this mornin’?” he asked, voice low and teasing, though there was an edge of curiosity there too.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, a quiet scoff escaping before you turned back toward the sink.

Toji clicked his tongue and leaned against the counter beside you, arms folding over his broad chest. “If this is about Valentine’s Day…” he started, dragging out the words as if the whole concept was ridiculous, “you know I can’t afford a nice dinner or some luxurious gift.”