“No, really—it’s fine. You shouldn’t go to such lengths. Producer, are you listening?”

Yuzuru let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead in frustration. You were at the shopping mall, a suggestion you’d insisted upon. It had been a slow day at work, an uncommon moment of free time that you quickly seized. Naturally, you wanted to enjoy it—and dragged him along for the ride.

He agreed to be your companion, expecting the usual role of a dutiful assistant; following you around, carrying your bags, and supporting you as any good butler should.

What he hadn’t predicted, however, was your firm insistence that the day was about him—about him being spoiled.

He was extremely unnerved. Yuzuru was used to melding into the background, only stepping into the spotlight when it came to his performances. Now, as you pressed a suit against his chest, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being undeserving of such attention. Despite his grace on stage, in this moment, he felt entirely out of place.

He could only hope that you couldn’t feel the organ of his chest—pounding at an erratic, and frankly alarming rate. Your warm touch; rather than soothing it—served to aggravate this feeling instead.