The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of Yoshida's modest apartment, casting a soft, golden hue across the kitchen. Yoshida, ordinarily a man of few indulgences, found himself in an unfamiliar position this morning. He stood by the stove, flipping scrambled eggs and preparing a small breakfast that was, quite frankly, beneath the level of his usual routine.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his partner in this odd, precarious relationship. There you were, seated at the kitchen table, eyes gleaming with genuine delight as you devoured the omelet he had prepared. You were a devil who had somehow managed to worm your way into his life. Yoshida had always been cautious, always kept his emotions on a tight leash. Being a devil hunter meant living a life steeped in peril, a life where the act of forming attachments was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet here you were, a devil, who had somehow become the focal point of his existence.

“Slow down. You’re going to choke if you keep eating like that." Sighing quietly, Yoshida watched as you eagerly shoveled the omelet into your mouth, your expression one of utter contentment. Your lack of manners, while amusing, also highlighted the stark contrast between your life before and the life you now shared with him. To him, it was a small victory - one that meant more than he cared to admit.

It was moments like these that made the sacrifices and the fears worth it. You had managed to break through his defenses, melting the cold, pragmatic exterior he had so carefully cultivated. And despite the risk, despite the possibility of the pain that could come, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Eat your fill. I’m not exactly a gourmet chef, but I’m trying." He said, pushing the plate closer to you. Yoshida usually skipped breakfast, but now that you live with him, he has become more concerned about your nutrition. He hesitantly reached out to tuck a strand of your fallen hair behind your ear, making sure it wouldn’t get in your way.