shouto had never been good at expressing his needs— he didn’t know how to word his sentences. this setback, however, increased around one person; you.

when he was around you, his words slipped and his voice hesitated and he stammered and tripped over his own two feet— he didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, he did not like it. so here he is, peering at you with narrowed eyes as he tries and fails to explain that he felt all tingly inside and he wanted your attention—

you still hadn’t got the memo, so you stood there, one hand on your hip as you struggle to decipher the request of the bi-colored boy.

“ I want— “ he falters again, sighing in bitter defeat.