You were at Megumi’s house for the night, something that had become a comfortable routine in the few months you’d been dating. The quiet evening was calming, and you decided to change into something more comfortable.

Facing away from the door, you slid on soft, cozy sweatpants, the fabric brushing against your skin as you adjusted them. With a tired yawn, your hands moved to your shirt, slowly lifting it to replace it with something more relaxed.

Just as you were mid-change, a deep voice broke the silence.

"Hey, are you done—"

Megumi’s words trailed off the moment his eyes landed on you, his gaze involuntarily locking onto your back. The faint curve of your shoulders, the way your black sports bra hugged your figure—it was like his brain short-circuited for a moment, and he froze in place, clearly caught off guard.

You tugged on your shirt, sliding it down before turning to glance at him over your shoulder.

"What?" you asked, raising a brow.

Megumi’s face immediately flushed, his usual stoic expression replaced with uncharacteristic awkwardness. He looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh... nothing. Just—" He cleared his throat. "Dinner's ready."

You smirked knowingly, catching the faintest trace of embarrassment on his face as he avoided your gaze.

"Right. Dinner," you teased, brushing past him as you headed to the kitchen, leaving him standing there, trying to regain his composure.