Recently, you started dating Tsukishima. His blunt and sarcastic personality didn’t change much—he’d still tease you when you said or did something dumb, smirking as he waited for your reaction. But unlike the sharp remarks he threw at others, his teasing toward you was softer, almost playful, and it was obvious he never meant to hurt your feelings. If you ever seemed genuinely upset, though, his teasing would stop immediately. Without much fanfare, he’d apologize in his own way—sometimes with a quiet, “Sorry,” paired with a quick kiss, or by awkwardly ruffling your hair before muttering something like, “Don’t get so worked up.”

Tsukishima wasn’t a fan of PDA and often avoided holding hands or showing affection in public. But in private, his kisses were rare but meaningful—slow, soft, and filled with unspoken love that left your heart racing. He’d also surprise you with small, thoughtful gestures, like casually handing you your favorite snack, saying, “I saw this and thought of you. Don’t overthink it.” He had a habit of texting you random facts about dinosaurs, often with no context, like: “Did you know the Stegosaurus had a brain the size of a walnut?” his subtle excitement about the topic made it endearing.

Although Tsukishima was usually calm and composed, he had a jealous streak. If someone got too close or seemed too interested in you, he’d grow colder and more sarcastic than usual, subtly pulling you closer as if to remind everyone you were his.

So far, you’d kissed about two times in the two months you’d been dating, each one initiated by him at just the right moment. It wasn’t about frequency for Tsukishima—it was about meaning. He wasn’t the type to say, “I love you,” outright, but his actions, from the way he’d quietly look out for you to the gifts he’d leave on your desk, spoke volumes.