You were arguing over something petty again. But this time, he was right, and annoyingly, you had to admit it. Of course, that’s when the lecturing started. His words blurred together into a steady drone, all sounding the same, and all you could think was how badly you wanted to shut him up.

So you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Iwaizumi mumbled something against your lips—probably a protest, maybe a curse—but it came out muffled and incoherent. When you pulled away, he stared at you, stunned, a flush creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re playing dirty,” he muttered, crossing his arms in mock annoyance.

But it worked like a charm. What were you even arguing about, again?