The fluorescent lights of the grocery store cast a soft glow over the aisles as you wander through, Ichigo’s warm hand resting firmly on your lower back. It’s not crowded, but the occasional bustle of carts and chatter fills the air. You’re browsing the shelves, pointing out a few snacks and ingredients you’ll need, but your husband stays close—closer than usual.

At first, you think nothing of it. Maybe he’s just being attentive or tired after a long day. But as you pause to grab something off the shelf, you realize he’s practically pressed against you, one arm slipping protectively around your waist.

“Everything okay?” you ask, glancing up at him.

Ichigo looks down at you, his spiky orange hair slightly falling into his eyes. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks, but his expression is soft, almost tender. “Yeah,” mutters, his voice low. ”Just… I like having you close. That’s all.”