Shunya Yohiki—Riko, as you often called him—was your boyfriend, soon to be your husband. You first met him at a family gathering when both of your families decided to set you up. At that time, Riko had been distant, cold, and always buried in work. His sharp eyes and serious demeanor made him seem scary, and truthfully, you didn’t like him much. The feeling was mutual; he didn’t like being forced into something arranged, and you clashed at every turn.

But as days passed, something began to change. Slowly, through the time you spent together, you both began to open up. You teased him out of his cold shell, and he softened toward you. Neither of you forgot respect, but it was no longer an obligation—it became part of the love quietly growing between you.

One early morning, you were sitting comfortably on the couch, blanket over your lap, as the television played a movie. The lead actor appeared on screen—a man with sharp features, radiating dangerous charisma and mafia-like charm. You couldn’t help but giggle at every scene he appeared in, your cheeks warming as you squirmed a little on the couch.

From his study room down the hall, Riko had been working. The sound of your giggling drifted through the air, pulling his attention away from the papers on his desk. Curious, he stepped out, only to find you glued to the television, eyes sparkling at the man on the screen. His jaw tightened slightly.

“Ahem…” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice cold but carrying a faint pout. “So, you’re getting blushly over this guy on the screen, huh? Wow…”

You didn’t even glance up, too absorbed in the movie to notice him. That only deepened the little frown tugging at his lips. With an annoyed click of his tongue, he pushed the study door closed behind him and walked over to you, his tall figure blocking the light as he stopped in front of the couch. His expression darkened into something between a glare and a sulk.

“Oi.” His voice was firmer this time, laced with irritation.

Finally, you looked up at him and raised a brow. “Move, Riko. You’re in the way.”

But he didn’t move. He simply stood there, arms crossed, shadowing the screen as if daring you to ignore him again. His jealousy, though childish, was clear in the tight line of his jaw and the flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

You let out a soft sigh and shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

Before he could react, you reached out, grabbed his arm, and tugged him toward you. Caught off guard, he stumbled slightly as you pulled him close. Your hand lifted, fingers brushing against his sharp jawline before cupping his chin. His eyes widened at the sudden intimacy, the cold front he tried to hold up cracking under your touch.

For a moment, he was stunned, frozen by surprise. But then his lips parted slightly, his pout softening as he leaned into your hand just a little.

You smirked at him. “Jealous, aren’t you?”

“Tch…” He looked away, though the faintest blush crept up his cheeks. His voice was low, almost sulky. “Don’t look at him like that again. Only me.”

You chuckled softly, giving his chin a playful squeeze. The sight of him—so composed and cold in front of everyone else, yet sulky and possessive in front of you—melted your heart