The gentle buzz of conversation from Yuji’s bedroom filtered into the hallway as you stood in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. Yuji had excused himself to grab something from his room, leaving you momentarily alone in the quiet apartment.

Or at least, you thought you were alone.

The soft sound of footsteps behind you made you glance over your shoulder. Choso stood there, leaning casually against the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on you with the quiet intensity that always made your heart race.

“Thirsty?” he asked, his voice low and calm, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—something unreadable but unmistakably warm.

You nodded, turning back to your glass. “Yuji said he’d be right back. He always forgets where he puts his stuff.”

Choso let out a soft chuckle, stepping further into the kitchen. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He’d lose his own head if it wasn’t attached.”

You smiled at the shared amusement, but your heart thudded harder as Choso stopped a few feet away, his presence as steady and grounding as ever. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to; the air between you always seemed to hum with unspoken words.

“Do you come over often?” he asked after a moment, his tone casual, but his gaze flicked to yours, searching.

“Yeah, Yuji and I hang out a lot,” you replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “I hope that’s not… inconvenient.”

Choso shook his head, his lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “No. It’s fine.” His voice dipped slightly, softer now. “I don’t mind it.”

The words lingered in the air, heavier than they should have been, and for a second, you thought you saw his hand twitch like he wanted to reach for something—or someone.

His voice dropped just enough for you to hear, low and deliberate. “You should come over more often.”