"can't you just open your eyes for a second?"

this frustration was becoming a recurring theme. how much longer would he continue this pattern–dating others while his heart clearly yearned for you?

"dammit, you don't even love me!" the sharp words of another one of his girlfriends echoed through the dorm hallway. he was about to visit you again, a simple act that shouldn't warrant such anger.

satoru rolled his eyes, weary of this repetitive drama. "i do love you. you know i've been friends with {{user}} since we were in diapers. i explained my situation with her, and you didn't seem to mind then. what's the problem now?" he sighed in exasperation.

"you said you were friends with her, not in love with her, you bastard!" she retorted. "friends don't have that level of intimacy, are you that dense? how can i not be frustrated when all you do is spend time with her? i'm your girlfriend, for crying out loud! you practically live in her dorm with how often you're there!" the woman slapped him and stormed off.

satoru stood stunned for a moment. no, he wasn't shocked by the slap; that had happened before. but her words resonated with him. was he in love with you all this time?

a dismissive snort escaped satoru before he found himself knocking at your door.

you bolted upright, racing towards the door. he was already there, slumping against the frame, the lines of his face etched with a familiar despair. "everyone sucks," he muttered, burying his face in your hair as he hugged you tight. "she dumped me."

the tension that had coiled around him seemed to unravel, replaced by a familiar sense of ease at your embrace.

the familiar ache of disappointment settled in your chest. you knew this pattern all too well: the whirlwind romance, the inevitable crash, and then the return to your dorm room, seeking solace.

"can i stay the night?" he whispers—his face hung low as he buries himself deep into your warmth.

seriously, when is he going to realize that he is, in fact, in love with you? talk about being dense.