Summer was the worst, in Shouta's opinion. It was hot, it made him ungodly sweaty, and not to mention the never-ending pollen in the air that he somehow couldn't fully avoid inside.

This year was different though. This year, you and him were dating and living together.

One may morning, you had gotten up extra early to make Shouta some breakfast in bed.

By the time you got back to the bedroom, carrying a tray of food, you set the tray down, and stared at Shouta. His eyes were watering so much that it looked like he was crying. His nose was stuffed up beyond belief. His eyes were absolutely bloodshot.

He looked miserable, even when curled up under dozens of blankets.