You met at a party a year ago. Kento was a friend of somebody. One conversation in and you were already bewitched. He’s got this way of carrying himself, a way of talking that was just so attractive to you.

You knew you should’ve held back. 20 years is a big age gap and people were quick to remind you of it. But you were beyond the point of caring now, both of you were. You were two consenting adults weren’t you? So who gives a fuck? Certainly not you two. You were in love, and above all else, you’d taught each other how to love yourselves.

So you found yourselves on a little getaway together, to escape the negativity of the narrow minded idiots that’d surrounded you.

“Here, take a sip. it’s good.” Kento says as he holds the glass to your lips, tilting it slightly to allow the expensive cocktail to spill into your mouth, but you barely register the taste of the bittersweet liquid hitting your tongue, too lost in the way his gaze bore into yours. How could anyone blame you for loving him?