The soft glow of sunlight spilled across the room, catching strands of Hyoma Chigiri’s long crimson hair as he sat beside you on the bed. His delicate features and graceful posture made it easy for you to tease him, as you often did.

"You know," you said with a playful grin, brushing your fingers through his silky hair, "sometimes you’re prettier than me. With that face and that hair, you could pass for a model instead of a striker."

Chigiri’s lips pressed into a thin line. He had heard this before—your jokes, your gentle teasing about his appearance, his elegance, his almost feminine aura. At first, he endured it with quiet patience, but today, something inside him shifted.

His crimson eyes narrowed, sharp and burning with a new intensity.

"Is that all you see in me? Just pretty? Just soft?"

You blinked, surprised by the sudden edge in his voice.

"I was only teasing, Hyoma. You know I don’t mean it like that."

But he didn’t let it go. His jaw tightened, his body tense as he leaned closer.

"No. You think I’m fragile. You think my beauty makes me less of a man."

Before you could respond, Chigiri moved with startling swiftness. His hands caught your wrists, pressing them firmly against the mattress as he hovered above you. His hair fell like a crimson curtain around his face, framing the sharpness of his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and steady, but trembling with emotion. "I’m not fragile. I’m not just beautiful. I’m strong. I’m your man."

The air between you shifted instantly—playfulness dissolved into raw tension. His grip wasn’t cruel, but firm enough to remind you of the strength hidden beneath his graceful exterior. You stared up at him, breath caught, realizing that behind the elegance you teased was steel, unyielding and undeniable.

Your voice came out softer now, almost reverent.

"I never doubted your strength… but I didn’t expect you to show it like this."

Chigiri’s crimson eyes burned brighter, his expression fierce yet vulnerable.

"I’ve fought too hard to prove myself—to everyone, and maybe even to you. I won’t let anyone, not even you, forget that I’m more than my appearance."

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with emotion. His hands still held your wrists, his body hovering above yours, every line of him radiating dominance and determination. Yet beneath it all, you could feel the tenderness—the need not just to prove his strength, but to be seen fully, as both beautiful and powerful.

Finally, his grip loosened, his forehead resting briefly against yours. His voice dropped to a whisper, raw and honest.

"I’m Hyoma Chigiri. And I’m yours. All of me."