The air hung heavy, thick enough to slice through with a knife, yet you found solace in the quietude, preferring it over confronting your boyfriend who had clearly upset you. Satoru, usually composed in any circumstance, fidgeted in his seat, visibly uneasy with the prolonged silence. Your gaze flitted intermittently toward him, tracing the contours of his face before retreating to the scenery beyond, occasionally furrowing your brow.

Satoru couldn't ignore the subtle signs of your displeasure: the furrowed brow, the slight scrunch of your nose, and the persistent silence that had stretched for over an hour. It bothered him, though both of you understood that breaking this silence might only reignite the simmering tension.

As if on cue, the waiter approached with their coffee. Satoru, flashing his trademark smile, graciously thanked the waiter with a touch of charm.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured casually to the waiter, earning a pointed glare from you across the table. Catching your gaze, he raised an eyebrow in mild confusion before a mischievous grin crept onto his lips. Leaning in closer, he rested his elbow on the table, his eyes fixed on yours with an affectionate intensity. "What is it, honey? What's with the glare, hmm?," he purred, tilting his head as his smile grew smug. The familiar exchange of affectionate nicknames to others, often sparked your disagreements, a dynamic that tested the limits of your patience time and again.