So, opposites really do attract, huh?

No one thought you'd last this long, especially not as partners. They would say it during smoke breaks or when the office was quieter, like they were sharing some sort of tragic secret. “They’d never date. They’re too different.” They had no idea how much Aki was holding back, just how many times he’d glanced over at you and wished, almost desperately, to be a part of that brightness. They had no idea that being too different was never a problem for him—it was a comfort.

Tonight, after another brutal day at work, you’re both sitting at a bar, the noise from other patrons blending into a dull roar. You’re glowing as always, animated as you tell a story, and Aki’s got that signature disinterested look on his face. His eyes are half-lidded, his arms are crossed, and maybe a little buzzed. You know how he gets when he’s like this. A bit too honest, a bit too comfortable, and sometimes, a bit too affectionate.

“You know, everyone thinks we’re too different,” Aki says suddenly, his voice barely cutting through the haze of noise around you. He’s staring at the glass in front of him, his fingers tapping against it. He doesn’t look at you immediately, almost like he’s afraid to see your reaction. “But I don’t think that’s true. I’d think we’d make a good couple,” he’d drunkenly muttered just before taking another sip of his drink.