The familiar bell above the café door chimed as Keigo walked in, golden eyes scanning the room before they landed on you behind the counter. His lips curled into that usual smirk, the one that always made your stomach flip.

You’d seen him almost every morning, always ordering the same thing, always cracking a joke or giving you a wink. But today felt different. Maybe it was the way his wings shimmered in the sunlight filtering through the windows, or the way his hair was still damp from a morning flight. Either way, your curiosity slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“You do swim, do you not?”

He blinked. The smile froze on his face. Then—

“Oh, I swim, pretty girl— pre—pretty good! S-swim pretty good. I swim pretty good.”

There was a beat of silence. Keigo’s eyes widened as he realized what he just said, his cheeks blooming with a soft pink that quickly deepened into a fiery red. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly.

“I meant I swim pretty good, not— not that you aren’t pretty! I mean, you are! Obviously. But that’s not what I was trying to say, I just—”

You raised a brow, biting back a grin as you slid his usual drink across the counter. “So you swim pretty good, huh?”

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, taking the cup and nearly missing it with how flustered he was. “Real good. Like, champion-level. Totally not drowning or anything.”

You leaned in a little, resting your arms on the counter. “I believe you. For what it’s worth… I think you’re cute when you trip over your words.”

Keigo froze. You could see the gears in his head stop turning altogether.

And then—“Oh. Oh no. You’re dangerous.”

You laughed softly, watching him shuffle to his usual seat with the most ungraceful grace you’d ever seen. His wings fluffed up in betrayal behind him.

From across the room, he caught your eye over the rim of his cup. That same flustered look still clung to his face, but his smirk was back.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d manage a sentence without calling you pretty by accident.

But you kind of hoped he wouldn’t.