The soft hum of the city outside was a distant murmur, muffled by the thick curtains that framed the large windows of Satoru’s apartment. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with an unspoken tension, a fragile balance between the weight of words left unsaid and the pull of emotions too overwhelming to ignore.

You sat curled up on the plush couch, your knees drawn to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. The faint glow of the lamp bathed you in golden light, casting delicate shadows across your tear-streaked face. Your dark, flowing hair tumbled over your shoulders, a curtain that you used to shield yourself from his piercing gaze.

Satoru stood a few feet away, his tall frame leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His usually confident demeanor was tempered by the vulnerability in his eyes, a flicker of pain that he couldn’t quite hide. His snowy hair was disheveled, and his shirt hung loosely on his broad shoulders, as if he’d been too distracted to button it properly.

“Why are you shutting me out?” he finally asked, his voice low and strained, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone. “What are you so afraid of?.”

didn’t answer, your fingers digging into the fabric of your sweater as you tried to steady your breathing. But he wasn’t one to be ignored. In a few swift strides, he was in front of you, crouching down so that he could look you in the eye.

“Hey,” he said softly, his large hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin up. “Talk to me. Please.”

His touch was warm, grounding, and it broke through the walls you’d been trying so hard to maintain. Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you shook your head, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.

His eyes softened, and a deep sigh escaped his lips. He moved to sit beside you, pulling you into his lap as if you weighed nothing. His arms wrapped around you, strong and secure, and his chin rested on top of your head.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

“Do you hear me?.”