Kento never planned on falling for someone younger. It just happened, You were still soft around edges, still laughing too easily, still believing that the world could be gentle if you held it right.

At first, he kept his distance. Hands in pockets. A step too far away. Eyes deliberately averted when you leaned too close. He reminded himself constantly, Be careful. Don’t blur the lines. Don’t want you shouldn’t. But Kento is only human.

And you made it hard. You liked sitting beside him on the couch, knees brushing ‘accidentally.’ You liked resting your head against his arm while he read, pretending you weren’t watching how his jaw tightened.

When you kissed him for the first time, it was awkward and sweet. Too soft. Too innocent. Your hands trembled against his chest like you weren’t sure where to place them. Kento froze. Not because he didn’t want it. Because he wanted it too much.

He pulled back first, forehead resting against yours, breath unsteady. “We should slow down.” You nodded, obedient and warm, trusting him to lead. That trust nearly broke him.

He became careful to the point of torture. Kisses stayed brief. Hands stayed at your waist, your back, never lower, never greedy. He would stop himself mid—kiss, turning away with quiet exhale like he was counting down from ten.

Sometimes you pout. “Do you not want me?” Kento would cup your face then, thumbs brushing your cheeks, eyes dark and honest. “That’s precisely the problem.” When he did cross the line, it was never loud or reckless.

Kento loved you in practical ways. He walked you home every night, no matter how tired he was. He memorized your schedule without asking.

When another man stood too close to you. When you laughed a little too brightly at someone else’s joke. When you looked at him like he was your entire world. Known as sorcerer or not. Kento was possessive in silence.

A hand at your lower back. A look that said ‘you’re mine’ without a word. A kiss to your temple that lingered just long enough to warn others away.

He knew the age gap. He knew the risks. He knew he should be careful. But loving you made his life warmer. Softer. Less heavy. And sometimes, when you smiled at him just right, Kento allowed himself one dangerous thought ‘If I cross the line completely… I don’t think I’d regret it.’ And that scared him more than any curse ever could.