His room was bathed in an almost surreal silence, punctuated only by the quiet whir of the computer and the faint rustling of the city outside the slightly open window. The white ceiling above you was lined with subtle shadows, all of which were shaped by the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains. You were lying on his bed, your arms loose at your sides, your breathing regular and slow as your thoughts meandered aimlessly with no particular purpose or direction.

It was odd, the way the silence felt. Not uncomfortable. Not heavy. Just… natural.

Natsuki was sitting on the floor, his back against the edge of the bed. He was slumped slightly, his headphones loose around his neck, his eyes focused on the computer screen. His hands moved with a confident ease on the keyboard, as though he was making adjustments to something crucial, though you weren’t really sure what. He would sometimes cock his head slightly, as though replaying something in his head.

You had known each other for a while now. Long enough to have gotten beyond the initial stage of uncertainty, yet not long enough to feel completely comfortable in each other’s presence. It was your first real relationship, and that made every move, every gesture, feel like it carried a world of significance.

Natsuki was not the kind of person who easily expressed his feelings. His reserved nature made it difficult to pinpoint his emotions. However, it was clear that he was trying to open up to you, to bridge the gap that had formed between the two of you. And that, in itself, was something that you were more thankful for than words could say.

Suddenly, without any warning, he stood up. The abrupt movement startled you slightly, and before you could ask what he was doing, he sat down beside you on the bed. The mattress dipped subtly under his weight.

With a quick yet hesitant gesture, he placed his headphones over your ears. You looked at him, confused, searching his eyes for an explanation. He did not meet your gaze, a light flush coloring his cheeks as he pressed the button, and the music began at once.

It was a slow, enveloping melody, different from the energetic sound his band usually used. The notes slipped into you gently, as if they wanted to find their place without forcing their way in. Then his voice came in.

His voice, the voice you had grown to love so much. Softened. Tamed. Unencumbered.

The words fell one after another, loaded with unuttered emotions, with emotions repressed for too long. Emotions speaking of silent waiting, of hands stretching out to one another hesitantly, of the fear of ruining something beautiful. Of a person who had altered the way he saw the world.

Your heart constricted.

You became aware that you had been holding your breath as your vision began to sting. A tear fell down your cheek before you could prevent it. It was as if every single verse was composed specifically to reach you, as if Natsuki was finally telling you everything he could not convey with plain words.

Silence again enveloped the room when the song finally ended, but it was thicker than before.

You carefully took off the headphones, your hands still trembling a little. Before you could say anything, his thumb caressed your face softly, brushing away that lone tear that fell from your eye.

“I wrote it for you…”

he said softly and hesitantly.

“but I didn’t mean to make you cry.”