Zanka wasn’t the kind of guy who could play it cool when it came to you.


He’d try — really, he would.

But the moment your fingers slipped between his, or your lips brushed against his cheek… his composure always cracked.

The tips of his ears would go red, his jaw would clench like he was trying to hide a smile — and then it’d happen anyway. That stupid, lopsided grin he could never quite hold back.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. He liked it too much. 
Every small touch, every bit of affection, made him feel like one of those characters in the sappy romance books. And yet… he didn’t mind being one for a while. Not if it was you.

The two of you had been wandering the town aimlessly, killing time until Enjin showed up. Zanka had his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes half-lidded, quietly scanning the crowd without really seeing anything. He was mid-thought — something about how long Enjin was taking — when a sudden weight wrapped around his waist.

He froze.

“Hey—” his voice cracked slightly, caught off guard. He glanced down, catching your arms looped tight around him, your cheek pressing into his back. His pulse kicked up embarrassingly fast.

“...What’s this for?” he muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but his voice came out quieter than he intended.

When you didn’t answer, just hummed softly against him, he sighed — but the corners of his mouth twitched up again.

“You really shouldn’t do stuff like that outta nowhere,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck, ears flushed. “Especially in public….”