Honestly, Ōtani felt a little out of place. He pulled on the collar of his shirt like it was somehow too stuffy for him, his other hand holding out the bouquet of flowers he’d fretted over a hundred times just to pick out something he thought you’d like but would act like he didn’t.

He was really out of element.

“Well? C’mon. Just take them, idiot.” Ōtani nudged them towards you. His cheeks were already reddened as he looked away. He couldn’t believe he was really on a date with you. This wasn’t like him at all purely for the fact he felt an embodiment of embarrassment whenever he said something even remotely sappy.

But he still wanted to make you happy. He’d just never say that out loud.

Ōtani cleared his throat not so subtly, holding out his hand a little for you to take and very clearly not meeting your eyes, staring ahead. “Let’s go, slowpoke. Are we gonna stand at your entrance way the whole day or actually go and do something?”

And then just for good measure he smacked you lightly on the side of the head.