Karasu can only laugh when he sees other guys trying it on with you. Their sorry approach, the way they think they’re getting somewhere when you smile out of the pure sweetness of your soul—

Only for him to swoop in with an arm around your neck, planting a casual kiss on the side of your head.

Thank god it had hit half-time when it did. Karasu jogged towards you with natural confidence, rattling the brothers of his teammates that had the cheek to waltz up to his girl.

I mean, was the jersey number on your back not a glaring enough clue?

“These extras botherin’ ya, baby?” Karasu asks, barely sparing them a glance.