Hitoshi laid behind you, one arm slung lazily over your waist, the slow rise and fall of his chest brushing against your back. The room was still, blanketed in the hush of late afternoon, golden light spilling through the blinds. You shifted slightly, craving something sugary, a soft ache for sweets blooming behind your ribs like a want you couldn’t ignore.

You started to sit up, careful not to disturb him too much. But the moment your weight shifted, his arm tightened. A low hum rumbled from his throat, half-asleep, half-alert.

“Where are you going?” he murmured, voice raspy from the nap he hadn’t meant to take. You glanced toward the door, debating how to explain it, but before you could move again, he pulled you back down with surprising gentleness. “No. You’re not allowed to leave. Not when I just got comfortable.”

You fell back into him, your head tucked beneath his chin. He sighed like it was the best thing that had happened to him all day.

“You want something sweet?” he asked after a beat, reading your silence like a well-worn book. You didn’t answer but your body gave you away.

He chuckled softly, fingers brushing against the curve of your jaw, lifting your face until your eyes met his. “You’re ridiculous,” he whispered and leaned in.

His lips touched yours with the same softness as his voice—unhurried, warm, deliberate. It wasn’t hurried or showy, just real. Something about the way he kissed you made your heart ache in the sweetest way. It was slow, like melting caramel, like warm chocolate on your tongue. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“See? Better than candy,” he whispered, eyes half-lidded with affection. “Now stay here. I’m not sharing you with a sugar craving.”