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skybyrocket · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 - 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆.𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟)

Words: 11k (Late special for 80 Followers!)

Inspo from @roninroaming 's art! Tire change I love their art!

Genre: G.N Reader (Fluff)

Summary: Just a "accidental" sleepover with your man!

( Reader is a g.n!)

TW!

Violence and Gore – The narrative involves scenes from horror movies such as Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Saw, which feature extreme violence and graphic depictions of harm, along with mentions of blood and gore.

Blood and Body Horror – The repeated references to blood, gore, and horror elements like body mutilation could be disturbing to some readers.

It was after Christmas, after New Year’s. The festivities had passed, leaving behind the soft hum of fading holiday cheer.

You finally finished your fan tour. Yes, the book got famous—the main novel and even the side story. Your fans devoured it all, their enthusiasm feeding a whirlwind of success that left your head spinning. They loved every plot twist, every heart-wrenching moment, and every intricate detail you poured into those pages. So much so, they insisted on a meet-and-greet.

…It was annoying.

Two days of back-to-back fan events because your so-called “manager” couldn’t organize anything right. Two days of smiling until your cheeks hurt, answering the same questions in slightly different ways, and signing until your wrist threatened mutiny. Now, you understood Angel’s pain all too well. She had always hinted at the darker side of success, but this—this was a crash course.

It all started with Seabird Publishing House. They took a chance on your story, and suddenly, you were a name people knew. Directors now lined up at your doorstep, waving adaptation rights in your face. You were a rising star.

A dream come true.

Yet even as the dream unfolded, you realized something. Something better. Something irreplaceable.

Through it all, you found a family—unexpected, unconventional, but a family nonetheless—within a “serial killer server.”

Each one of them brought something unique to the table. Angel’s charm, so intoxicating and genuine, was a balm to anyone lucky enough to know her. V’s mysterious aura, with layers you’d only begun to peel back, kept you guessing and intrigued. Misaki’s chaos brought life to even the dullest moments, a spark that could ignite laughter from the most stoic among you.

Then there was Luca, with his unshakable sunniness that could brighten the darkest day. Felicie’s kindness wrapped around you like a warm blanket, offering quiet support when words failed. Vince, with his poetic admiration of sunsets, shared his thoughts in ways that painted beauty where others saw none. Ai Hua’s steady stream of thumbs-ups, simple yet somehow profound, reminded you that sometimes the smallest gestures carried the most weight.

And then there was Ronin.

Ronin with his edge, his intensity, his everything. He was chaos, danger, and something else entirely—something that had wormed its way into your chest and made a home there. You missed them all, but you missed him most.

Yes, you missed him.

The realization hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Three days had passed since you logged into the server. Three long, hectic days of meet-and-greets, interviews, and meetings. You hadn’t had a moment to breathe, let alone catch up with your found family. The ache of their absence crept into your thoughts, unbidden and relentless. But when you thought of him…

Well, it was a different ache entirely.

Ronin had opened up a little more this Christmas. Not much—he was still Ronin, after all. But enough for you to see past the sharp edges and into something softer, something vulnerable. He wasn’t the monster he pretended to be, and maybe… maybe he wasn’t as untouchable as you’d once believed.

New Year’s had been unforgettable. A shared kiss under the brilliance of fireworks, the colors dancing in the sky as your heart raced faster than you thought possible. His lips had been surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the man you thought you knew. The memory played on a loop in your mind, each replay accompanied by a flush of heat and a flutter in your chest.

Ugh.

It was embarrassing how much space he occupied in your thoughts. But that was Ronin. He had a way of getting under your skin, into your head, and staying there. And honestly? You didn’t hate it.

But you missed them. All of them. You missed the banter, the chaos, the comfort of knowing they were just a message away. Most of all, you missed him—his wit, his intensity, his presence.

You sighed as your car smoothly rolled into Purgatory, a small bag with your homemade apple crumble sitting on the passenger seat. As usual, it was for him. Ronin, with his sarcastic charm and maddening edginess, always looked forward to these visits—even if he’d never admit it outright.

The neighborhood was quiet, almost unnaturally perfect, the kind of perfection that made you feel like something ominous was lurking underneath. But at that moment, you didn’t care. You were in a love-struck haze, grinning like a fool as "Flawless" blasted through your speakers, your fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

It was cheesy. It was stupid. But you were so deep in your little love bubble that you almost forgot the chaos that usually surrounded your life. Thoughts of your server family danced in your head—Angel’s sweet encouragement, V’s dry humor, Misaki’s wild antics. You missed them so much! But if you were being honest, you missed him just a little bit more.

You were daydreaming about the next time you’d see Ronin when—BAM!

A loud POP jerked you out of your daydreams.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" you yelped as your car wobbled dangerously before grinding to a stop.

You pulled over, jumped out, and immediately spotted the culprit. One of your tires was flat—completely, irreparably flat.

“Ughhhhh!” you groaned, kicking the tire in frustration.

Big mistake.

“OW! OW, OW, OW!” you yelped, hopping on one foot as the pain shot up your leg. “Stupid car! Stupid tire! STUPID EVERYTHING!”

You slumped against the hood, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. You had planned to go home, log into the server, and finally catch up with everyone. But noooo, now you were stuck here, stranded in the middle of nowhere, your car practically mocking you with its uselessness.

"This is the worst," you muttered, glaring at the offending tire like it had personally betrayed you.

Groaning, you pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as you searched for a nearby mechanic. Relief washed over you when you found one just a few miles away. Great. Just great. Now you had to limp your car there on a busted tire.

Sliding back into the driver’s seat, you let out a heavy sigh. "This day can’t get any worse," you muttered, though you immediately regretted saying it because fate loved a good challenge.

The car grumbled and groaned with every revolution of the wheels, the uneven thud-thud-thud of the flat tire making your teeth clench. "I swear," you grumbled under your breath, gripping the steering wheel, "if this thing breaks down before I get there, I’m setting it on fire. I don’t care if it’s the middle of suburbia."

You inched forward, exhaustion crept up on you. The fan tour, the meet-and-greet, the endless smiling and pretending—you were done. All you wanted was to get home, log into the server, and see the chaos unfold with your found family.

"Ugh, stop it," you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. "Focus on the road, not… him."

But the weight of the day pressed down on you, and the monotonous sound of the broken tire didn’t help. You felt your eyes droop slightly. You were just so… tired.

You pulled up to the mechanic shed, the broken tire scraping and thumping like a cruel metronome against your patience. As the car sputtered to a halt, you slumped over the steering wheel, exhausted.

The lights in the shed were dim, and a "CLOSED" sign hung mockingly from the door. You let out a groan, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration. “Of course, it’s closed,” you muttered. “Why wouldn’t it be? Perfect end to a perfect day.”

Steeling yourself, you decided to at least knock and beg for help. You opened your eyes—and froze.

Standing in the faint glow of the streetlamp was someone unmistakable.

He wasn’t wearing his usual black beanie with the grayish horizontal stripes and devil horns over his messy burgundy hair. Instead, his hair caught the faintest glint of light, wild and untamed. His eyes—those black, endless voids—locked onto you, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Ronin stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he owned the place. A shiny black leather jacket hung off his frame, riddled with scissors, pins, and safety pins that glinted in the dim light. Beneath it, a black t-shirt emblazoned with a grinning skull peeked through. His ripped maroon pants gave him an almost devil-may-care charm, and the GTrans bracelet on his wrist gleamed faintly, a subtle rebellion wrapped in tech.

Your breath hitched.

“Oh... my god,” you muttered under your breath, the realization hitting you like a truck. Of course. Of course this would happen.

You had somehow forgotten, amidst the chaos of the last few days, that your sweet, edgy, murder-loving boyfriend wasn’t just a killer with a penchant for theatrics—he was also a damn mechanic.

“Oh, the gods are laughing at me today,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped out of the car, trying to compose yourself.

Ronin tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he sauntered closer. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice oozing with amusement. “Look who stumbled into my little slice of purgatory. And here I thought you’d forgotten all about me, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. All you could do was stare at him, equal parts flustered and exasperated.

You cleared your throat, snapping yourself out of the trance his presence always seemed to induce. “Ronin! Hi!” you greeted, though your tone came out half-exasperated, half-relieved.

His smirk widened as he raised an eyebrow, casually shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Missed me, darlin’?” he teased, his voice dripping with that familiar mix of flirtation and mischief.

You crossed your arms, doing your best to look unimpressed despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “Ehh… don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your act. “Anyway, I’m not here for a reunion. My car—ugh—tire’s busted, and I just need it fixed so I can get home and finally log in to the server.”

Ronin’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he listened, his grin softening into something almost fond. “Tough day, huh? Fan meet didn’t go so well?”

You groaned, throwing your hands up. “It was a disaster! Two days of back-to-back chaos because my manager is useless. I hated every second of it. I’ve never been so drained in my life.”

He chuckled, low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like a hug. “That does sound like hell,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the garage. “C’mon in. I’ll take care of it.”

Relief washed over you as you followed him inside. The garage smelled faintly of grease and metal, a strangely comforting contrast to the suffocating sweetness of the fan meet venues. Ronin pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit.

“You’re my savior,” you said with a dramatic sigh as you plopped down.

He smirked over his shoulder as he grabbed his tools. “Savior, devil, mechanic—it’s a wonder I don’t charge extra for all the roles I play. Since you’re my lover, though, maybe I’ll give you a discount.”

You grinned, leaning back in your seat. “Oh, maybe, huh? Some boyfriend you are.”

His laugh echoed through the garage, light and genuine. “We’ll see,” he said, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment, glinting with something unspoken. His smile lingered—soft, warm, and so unlike his usual devilish smirk. Maybe… maybe he’d missed you too.

As he started working on your car, you noticed the little container sitting nearby, the one you’d handed him earlier. Sure enough, he was eating the apple crumble you’d brought him.

“Hey,” you called out, “how’s the crumble?”

He glanced at you, a crumb sticking to the corner of his mouth, and grinned. “It’s good,” he said simply, his voice softening in a way that made your heart skip.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze. Ronin noticed immediately, pausing his work and quirking an eyebrow at you. “What?” he asked, though his tone was already laced with mischief.

You shook your head quickly, trying to play it cool. “Nothing,” you said, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

He smirked, leaning against the car with his arms crossed, his dark eyes practically twinkling. “Oh, come on, darlin’. You’re not usually this quiet. What’s got you all flustered?”

“I’m not flustered!” you shot back, sitting up straighter in an attempt to regain some of your dignity. “And don’t call me that!”

Ronin’s grin widened, his teasing becoming relentless. “Darlin’, darlin’, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gotta say, I like it when you call me that too.”

Your face burned, and you huffed, standing up abruptly to face him. “You know what? You must’ve missed me more than I missed you,” you retorted, crossing your arms in a weak attempt to shield yourself from the storm of emotions he always seemed to stir up.

Ronin tilted his head, his expression turning mock-thoughtful. “Hmm, maybe. Or maybe you’re just really bad at hiding how much you missed me.” His grin turned softer, almost fond, and you knew you were losing this battle.

“Shut up,” you muttered, stepping closer to him despite yourself.

Before you could overthink it, you grabbed him by the collar of his shiny leather jacket and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, desperate kiss. For a moment, the world seemed to stop—no broken car, no exhausting fan meet, just him.

His mouth tasted faintly of apple crumble, warm and sweet, and as the kiss deepened, you felt a jolt of something electric shoot through you. He kissed you like he always did—like destruction, chaos, and temptation wrapped in something maddeningly irresistible.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. “Ah,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “you really missed me, didn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, but the breathlessness in your laugh gave you away. “Maybe I did,” you admitted softly, your hands still clutching his jacket.

Ronin’s smile turned impossibly tender, and he leaned down again, brushing his lips against yours in a way that was softer this time “’I missed you too, darlin’.”

You sat there, legs crossed, watching Ronin work. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the lean muscles of his arms as he worked on your car. The way his hands moved with practiced ease, the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he focused, and the occasional glint of his dark eyes—it was maddeningly distracting.

You tried not to stare. Really, you did. But every time you looked away, your eyes were drawn back to him like a moth to a flame. It didn’t help that the grease smudged across his face and the glint of metal tools in his hands only added to the rugged charm he wore so effortlessly.

Finally, he glanced up, catching you mid-stare. “What’chu lookin’ at?” he asked, his voice carrying that teasing edge that always made your heart race.

You quickly averted your gaze, trying to play it cool. “The car,” you said, a little too quickly.

Ronin snorted, straightening up and wiping his hands on a rag. “The car’s in bad shape, darlin’,” he said, gesturing to the broken tire and other issues. “She’s not gonna be ready until tomorrow at the earliest.”

You groaned, pulling out your phone to figure out your next move, but when you pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Your battery was dead. Perfect. You wanted to scream, maybe even cry, but instead, you let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Life is so shawty,” you muttered under your breath, clutching your phone like it had personally betrayed you.

Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your theatrics. “Gonna call a cab?” he asked, though his smirk suggested he already knew the answer.

You shot him a look, holding up your dead phone. “I was gonna call a cab, but obviously, that’s not happening now.”

He studied you for a moment, the gears in his mind turning. Then, suddenly, he grinned. That devilish, mischievous grin you’d come to recognize as the prelude to one of his infamous plans.

“What?” you asked warily, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Got an idea,” he said simply, his voice low and full of implication.

Before you could ask what that meant, you stood up—and promptly tripped over a stray oil canister. You went down hard, landing in a puddle of grease with a loud thud. For a moment, you just sat there, stunned and mortified, as the slick substance seeped into your clothes.

Ronin burst out laughing, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, darlin’, you’re killin’ me,” he said between breaths, his laughter ringing through the shop.

“Why the hell am I so trippy today?” you groaned, wiping at the grease on your hands, though it only made things worse.

Ronin crouched down beside you, still chuckling as he patted your head affectionately. “C’mon, grease monkey,” he said, helping you to your feet. “I got a plan, remember?”

You raised an eyebrow, still suspicious but curious despite yourself. “What plan?”

He grinned, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Sleepover,” he said, his voice practically purring. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “A sleepover? Like, here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, but his smirk gave him away. “Unless you wanna spend the night walkin’ home in greasy clothes with no phone and no car.”

Realization dawned, and you broke into a wide grin. “You mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” he said, standing back up and gesturing around the shop. “Ain’t much, but it’s got a roof, a couch, and me. What more could you want?”

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yay!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. Without thinking, you jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck in an impulsive hug.

Ronin stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then his arms came around you, holding you close. “Careful there, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “You’re still covered in grease.”

You pulled back, laughing despite yourself. “Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Ronin led you up the narrow staircase to his house, which was tucked away just behind the garage. The walk was short, but the moment he opened the door, he turned to you with a playful smirk and said, “Welcome to the Hell”

You stepped inside and glanced around. The place was... messy, but not in a gross way. More like a chaotic bachelor pad with an oddly cozy charm. Clothes were draped over the back of the couch, empty coffee mugs lined the counter, and random tools and knickknacks were scattered around. Despite the clutter, it smelled faintly of leather and spice—distinctly Ronin.

“It’s definitely messy,” you teased, grinning at him, “but... it’s cozy! Kinda suits you, honestly.”

He gave you a look, somewhere between amusement and mock offense, before chuckling. “Thanks. And I mean it, darlin’—I don’t get many compliments about this place.”

Before you could respond, he tossed a bundle of clothes at you. “Here,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “Freshen up. You’re covered in grease, and you’re not gonna wanna sit on anything until you get cleaned up.”

You caught the clothes with a raised eyebrow. “What about you? You’ve been working in grease all day too.”

His grin widened, clearly catching on to what you meant. “What, you worried about me now? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take my turn after you.”

You folded your arms, pretending to think it over. “Nah, you first. It’s your house, after all.”

“Uh-uh, darlin’,” he said, shaking his head. “This ain’t up for debate. You’re the guest, so you’re goin’ first.”

Realizing there was no point in arguing, you sighed dramatically. “No, I’m gonna prepare something in your kitchen. Coffee or tea sound good?”

He tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look. “You can make whatever you want, but don’t make it too greasy. I’ve had enough grease for one day.”

You smirked, unable to resist. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Mechanic.”

That earned you a light pinch on the cheek, his fingers surprisingly gentle. “Go on, troublemaker,” he said, his tone softer now.

With that, he turned and disappeared into the small restroom, leaving you standing in his living room with the bundle of clothes. You glanced toward the kitchen, deciding it was time to live up to your promise.

You rummaged through his cabinets, you found a kettle, some tea bags, and an ancient-looking coffee maker. “This’ll do,” you mumbled to yourself, getting to work. The thought of surprising Ronin with a warm drink made you smile—you were determined to do something nice for him, even if his kitchen was a little chaotic.

While the kettle boiled, you couldn’t help but glance toward the bathroom door, a small smile tugging at your lips. Messy house or not, it felt oddly comforting to be here, in his space, where the smell of him lingered and every corner seemed to carry a piece of his personality.

You poured the hot water over the tea and set the mug down just as you heard the shower turn off. Ronin’s voice carried from behind the door. “You better not be burnin’ down my kitchen, darlin’!”

You rolled your eyes, calling back, “Your kitchen’s still standing—for now!”

Ronin emerged from the bathroom, towel slung over his neck as he dried his burgundy hair. He was wearing an oversized, slightly wrinkled t-shirt that hung loosely over his frame, paired with baggy shorts and mismatched socks. The casual look was... unfairly attractive on him, and you found yourself staring for a second too long.

Noticing your gaze, he smirked and let out a sharp whistle, snapping you back to reality. “Hey, darlin’. Enjoying the view?”

You huffed, pretending to ignore him. “Thanks for the reminder to get back to reality.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “Reality’s overrated.” He reached out and lightly poked your forehead with his finger, stopping you mid-motion. You blinked up at him, confused, and before you could say anything, he flicked your forehead gently.

“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”

“For zoning out,” he teased. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re still daydreaming about me.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically and grabbed the bundle of clothes he handed you earlier. “Whatever. Tea’s ready. Now get out of my way so I can clean up.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping aside with a playful grin. “Yes, . I’ll go enjoy my tea.. if it hasn’t turned into sludge in my absence.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before disappearing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You started to clean up, you could hear him humming faintly from the other room. His voice, warm and relaxed, paired with the cozy atmosphere of his home, made you feel unexpectedly at ease.

You emerged from the bathroom, feeling a bit fresher but still shivering slightly. The oversized white t-shirt Ronin had given you hung loosely over your frame, and the little shorts he’d tossed in for good measure were surprisingly comfortable. You padded barefoot into the living room, rubbing your arms for warmth as you spotted him lounging on the couch, coffee mug in hand.

“Ah-choo!” you sneezed loudly, shaking your head as you plopped down on the opposite end of the couch.

Ronin glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Cold?”

“Yeah, the water was a bit chilly,” you said with a small laugh, sniffling.

He tilted his head in disbelief. “Didn’t you turn on the water heater?”

You blinked, your cheeks flushing. “...Nope.”

A grin spread across his face, equal parts amused and exasperated. “Tehee?” he mocked, imitating your tone perfectly. “Darlin’, you really are somethin’ else.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, curling your legs up under you on the couch. “So, what’s the plan? Are we just gonna sleep, or... you know, do something fun?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a long sip of his coffee before setting the mug down. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. If you’re tired, the couch is all yours.”

You nodded, smiling softly as you moved to settle in on the couch. “Okay, sounds good—”

Before you could finish, Ronin’s hand shot out, grabbing yours and tugging you back. You let out a startled yelp as you tumbled backward, landing against him with a soft thud.

“Ehhhh!” you gasped, gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself.

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing in your ear. “Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed mockingly, his arms resting lightly on either side of you. “You really thought I was gonna let you off that easy, huh?”

You stared up at him, your heart pounding. “Ronin...”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Relax. I’m not that cruel.” His tone softened, and he leaned back slightly, giving you space but keeping you close enough to feel his warmth. “But you shouldn’t take everything so seriously, darlin’. You’ll wear yourself out.”

You exhaled shakily, letting your guard down a little. “It’s fine,” you said quietly, your fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt.

He glanced down, his eyes briefly scanning your outfit. “You look good in white,” he remarked, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

Ronin’s expression shifted, his grin turning sharper. “Though, if you were covered in blood, it’d look even better.”

Your head snapped up, your brows furrowing. “...What? Like blood lilies or something?”

He let out a low laugh, his gaze gleaming with mischief. “Just sayin’ you’d look like a masterpiece.”

You groaned, shoving lightly at his chest. “This is supposed to be a sleepover, not one of your weird murder monologues!”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his laughter echoing through the room. “Alright, alright. No murder talk tonight. Pinky promise.”

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

You sat comfortably, the conversation turned toward how the evening would play out.

“Alright, darlin’,” Ronin said, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to distract you momentarily. “How about we set up for a movie night? Got some good tapes in my room. Best collection of yours truly."

“Your room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, my room. Don’t worry—‘other stuff’ means movies, nothing weird.”

You snickered, standing up and following him. “Sure, sure. Lead the way, oh mysterious one.”

He smirked over his shoulder and opened the door to his room. It was surprisingly cozy—cluttered, yes, but in a lived-in way. There was a stack of VHS tapes by a small TV,.

“Whoa, what’s that?” you asked, stepping closer as Ronin watched you with amusement.

“My pets,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “C’mere. Meet Pepperoni and Blackjack.”

Your eyes widened as he opened the terrarium, revealing a sleek, vibrant snake that coiled lazily around his hand as he lifted it. “This is Pepperoni,” he said, holding the snake up for you to see. Its black-and-gold scales shimmered under the light, and it flicked its tongue curiously.

You blinked, taking a hesitant step back. “I think I’ll pass on holding that one, thanks.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “Suit yourself. Pepper’s a sweetheart, though.”

Your attention shifted to the cage, where a small, fluffy rat sat chewing on a piece of food. “And who’s this little guy?” you asked, your tone softening as you crouched down.

“That’s Blackjack,” Ronin replied. “The little troublemaker of the house.”

Without hesitation, you opened the cage and gently picked up the rat, who squeaked but quickly settled in your hands. “Aww, you’re so cute!” you cooed, cradling Blackjack carefully.

Ronin snorted, watching the scene unfold. “Figures. Most people are scared of Blackjack, but you’re out here actin’ like he’s the cutest thing alive.”

“He is the cutest thing alive,” you shot back, stroking Blackjack’s fur.

Pepperoni flicked its tongue at you from Ronin’s hand, and you stuck your tongue out in return. “Still not holding the snake, though.”

“Your loss,” Ronin teased, letting Pepperoni coil around his arm. “But hey, Blackjack likes you, so I guess you’re off the hook.”

You laughed, setting the rat back in his cage. “You’ve got quite the little zoo here.”

“Only the best for the Devil,” he said with a wink. “Now, you ready to set up for this movie night or what?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, grinning.

With Pepperoni draped casually around his shoulders, Ronin handed you a stack of pillows and blankets, and the two of you started arranging them on the floor of his room

Ronin’s smirk grew wider as you squealed, clearly entertained by your reactions. He gently guided your hands to hold Pepperoni, carefully draping the snake around your arms. “C’mon, darlin’, it’s just a little snake,” he said, his voice full of amusement as you hesitated. “She won’t bite unless you piss her off.”

You giggled nervously, your hands trembling just a bit as Pepperoni slithered across your arms. “It’s so...slimy!” you squeaked, but there was an undeniable excitement in your voice.

“See? Told you It’s cute,” Ronin said, his tone teasing as he watched you fidget. “Just don’t freak out on me now. It's pretty chill.”

You squealed again, but this time it was more out of delight than fear. “Pepper!” you cooed, your hands slowly becoming more comfortable with the soft, slithery sensation of the snake. “You’re so adorable!”

Ronin chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight of you bonding with Pepperoni. “Yeah, I knew you’d come around. Look at you, all soft with my child here.”

You looked up at him, your cheeks flushing slightly from the attention. “You know, I never thought I’d be holding a snake today,” you said, laughing nervously but genuinely enjoying the moment. “It’s cute, though, in a weird, slithery way.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Ronin’s grin turned playful as he watched you interact with the snake. “I think it likes you.”

You gave Pepperoni a gentle stroke down her smooth back, and the snake flicked its tongue out at you, seemingly in approval. “Well, I like them too. Maybe it can stay here, and Blackjack can be my buddy.”

“That’s the spirit, darlin’,” Ronin said, clearly amused by your change in attitude. “But no promises on which one’s more trouble.”

You laughed, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment settling over you. Despite the oddities of Ronin’s life—his pets, his chaotic nature—this felt oddly perfect. Pepperoni nestled herself more comfortably in your arms as if sensing the calm around her.

“You’re alright, Pepper,” you whispered softly, making Ronin smile with a knowing look. “And I guess you’re not too bad either,” you added, glancing up at him with a playful grin.

“You’re full of surprises, darlin’,” he said, reaching out to gently pat Pepperoni’s head. “But you’re definitely more comfortable with her than I thought you’d be. You just needed a little nudge in the right direction, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face couldn’t be hidden. “Maybe. I’ll admit it—I’m getting used to your weirdness.”

“That’s the first step, sweetheart.” Ronin gave you a soft look as you held Pepperoni carefully, and his teasing expression softened for a moment. “

Ronin was moving around, grabbing extra pillows and blankets, as he made a cozy little space on the floor in his room. His hands were quick and efficient, pulling everything together to create a comfy spot for your movie night. He glanced over at you, still holding both Pepperoni and Blackjack with the most tender, protective care, like a mother cradling her little ones. You were genuinely smitten with the animals, and the sight of you bonding with them made Ronin’s heart soften, despite the tough exterior he tried so hard to maintain.

"Look at you," Ronin said with a teasing smile, his eyes gleaming with affection as he laid out the final blanket on the floor. "You’re all overprotective of my pets now, huh?"

You giggled, holding Pepperoni and Blackjack close to your chest like they were the most precious things in the world. "They’re just so cute! I love them already," you said, grinning wide. "I can’t believe I was ever scared of them."

Ronin sat back on his heels, eyes softened by your gentle smile. "Well, I knew you'd come around," he said with a smirk. "Look at you, all cozy with my animals now. Can’t say I didn’t warn you."

You rolled your eyes playfully at him but couldn’t help but beam with affection. "They’re so sweet! Pepperoni’s like a little snake cuddle bug," you said, carefully shifting both of them to make room for yourself on the blankets. "And Blackjack... Blackjack’s a whole mood. I love how feisty he is."

"You’re a natural," Ronin teased, finally getting to work on setting up his own spot, lying back onto the freshly made blanket pile. "I guess this’ll be your permanent home now, huh? First the couch, now the floor. You’re gonna need a bigger space for all that love you’ve got for my pets."

You scooted over onto the blankets with Pepperoni and Blackjack in tow, settling down beside Ronin, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I wouldn’t mind it," you replied, laughing softly as you tucked yourself in. "This is comfy! I could totally see myself spending more time here."

Ronin’s smirk softened into something warmer. He sat up, glancing at you with a quiet kind of affection before handing you the remote. "Alright, sweetheart, pick the movie. I’ll let you choose—since you’re obviously in charge of the pets now," he said, his voice teasing but filled with a subtle warmth.

You chuckled, looking at him through your lashes as you took the remote from his hand. "Well, if I’m in charge of the pets, you’re in charge of snacks," you quipped. "And by snacks, I mean anything sweet that you might have in this den of yours."

"Alright, alright, I’ll get the snacks," Ronin said, standing up and stretching. "But don’t think you’re getting away with it so easy. You’re gonna have to share some of that love with me too, darlin’."

With that, he headed to the kitchen, leaving you snuggling with the animals. You couldn’t stop smiling—between the warm blankets, the two cute pets, and Ronin’s easygoing, yet slightly possessive presence, it felt like you were finally finding your place in his world.

Pepperoni coiled herself comfortably on your lap, while Blackjack settled beside you, making content little squeaks. It felt so peaceful, so right, even in the midst of Ronin’s chaotic world. You ran your fingers through Pepperoni’s scales, a soft smile still lingering on your lips.

Ronin quietly put the pets back in their respective spots, making sure they were comfortable before heading back to you. He grabbed a plate of food he had prepared earlier, setting it on the low table between you both. With a soft smile, he poured you a cup of pu-erh tea, the rich, earthy aroma filling the air as he handed it to you.

"Here," he said, with that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hope it’s to your liking."

You took the cup with a grateful smile, your fingers brushing his for just a moment. "Thank you," you murmured, the warmth of the tea comforting you.

Ronin's eyes softened for a second, before his mischievous grin returned. Without warning, he threw a soft plushie at you. You blinked, surprised as it hit your chest. It was a goose plushie, its beady eyes staring up at you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. "What the hell, Ronin?" you said, holding it up and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed and shrugged. "I think it’s funny. Plus, you’re in my den now, darlin'. You’ve gotta embrace the weird."

Before you could respond, he grabbed the blanket that was laid out on the floor and threw it toward you. You yelped, startled by his playful antics as the blanket landed on top of you.

"You’re really pushing it tonight, huh?" you grumbled, trying to maintain a tough exterior.

Ronin just smirked, before walking over and sitting beside you. He casually draped the blanket over both of you, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His touch was gentle, but there was a subtle, teasing glint in his eyes.

He kissed your forehead softly, the gesture tender and loving. As he pulled back, he playfully flicked your forehead, and you let out a soft huff, trying to hold onto your tough facade.

"Hmph," you muttered, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down, you were softening under his affection.

Ronin chuckled and spoke something in Cantonese, his voice low and playful.

"你真可愛 (Nei zan ho oi)." He said with a teasing grin.

You blinked, trying to make sense of what he said. "What?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, confused.

He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours, his eyes glinting with amusement. Slowly, he turned your head to face him, your gazes locking. For a split second, you both stayed still, the tension thick in the air, almost on the verge of a kiss.

But Ronin suddenly broke the moment with a playful smirk. "Darlin’... the movie," he reminded you, his voice teasing yet soft, his breath warm against your lips.

The screen lit up with the opening credits of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you blinked at the title in disbelief. Of all the movies he could’ve picked, you had really thought Ronin might go for something romantic—some cliché sappy flick to match his occasional sweet words.

But no. Of course, he went with blood, gore, and chaos. Typical.

You glanced at him, squinting. “Really?” you asked, pointing at the screen.

He just smirked and shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around the both of you and drawing you closer. “What? It’s a classic, darlin “Besides, you said it was fine, darlin’. No backing out now.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a small smile. “Fine,” you muttered, settling against him. “But if I get nightmares, it’s your fault.”

The movie started, and it didn’t take long for the blood and chaos to unfold. At the first particularly gruesome scene, you let out an involuntary scream, clutching onto Ronin like your life depended on it. His chest rumbled with laughter, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

“Aw, poor thing,” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. “Didn’t know you were so delicate.”

You glared at him, but the next jump scare had you clinging to him again. He laughed even harder, his arm tightening around you. “This is gold,” he muttered, clearly enjoying himself.

The movie went on, though, the gore stopped bothering you as much. In fact, you started focusing more on the characters, your writer brain kicking into full gear.

“That guy’s an idiot,” you muttered, gesturing to the screen as one of the characters made a particularly stupid decision. “Like, who thinks splitting up in the middle of nowhere is a good idea? It’s like they want to get murdered.”

Ronin glanced at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh? And what would you have them do, genius?”

“They should’ve stayed together,” you said, your tone firm. “And they should’ve been armed. Like, why do they never carry weapons? It’s basic survival.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Listen to you, plotting their whole survival strategy. What are you gonna do next, darlin’? Rewrite the script?”

You shot him a mock glare. “I’m just saying, it’s frustrating when characters act so unrealistically. If I were writing this, they’d at least have some common sense.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, his smirk widening. “That writer brain of yours. Can’t even watch a horror movie without tearing it apart. You’re adorable, you know that?”

Your cheeks warmed, and you tried to play it off with a shrug. “I just think it could be better, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” he teased, leaning in closer. “Keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, you’re over here analyzing every character like you’re their therapist.”

You elbowed him lightly, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “And what’s wrong with that? It’s not my fault they’re poorly written.”

He laughed, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked down at you. “You’re somethin’ else, darlin’. But don’t worry—if Leatherface shows up, I’ll protect you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your sarcasm.

By the time the movie ended, you were leaning comfortably against him, your earlier fear replaced by a strange sense of contentment. Ronin reached for the remote and turned off the screen, glancing down at you with a smirk.

“So,” he said, “what’s the verdict? Was it romantic enough for you?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nothing says romance like chainsaws and gore.”

He chuckled, his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder. “Glad you liked it, sweetheart.

Ronin sifted through the stack of DVDs with one hand, the other still casually draped around your shoulders. You leaned against him, watching as he inspected each case. After the chaos of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you were bracing yourself for another round of gore. When he stopped on Saw, your stomach sank.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” you said, your voice firm. “I can’t handle another movie where people are chopped up like deli meat.”

He turned to you, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “What’s wrong, darlin’? Too much for you?”

“Yes, too much for me,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Pick something comforting for once. Don’t you have, like, a favorite movie that isn’t about blood and guts?”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your insistence. He looked back at the DVDs, muttering under his breath. “Comforting, huh?”

After a moment, he let out a soft sigh and picked up a case with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. “Maybe this,” he said, holding it up.

You blinked at the title. Heathers.

“Oh,” you said, sitting up straighter. “That’s... unexpected.”

“What?” he asked with a smirk. “Not enough blood and murder for you?”

“No, it’s just—” You paused, tilting your head. “Actually, never mind. Put it on."

He slid the disc into the player, and as the opening credits rolled, you found yourself stealing glances at him. Something about the way he looked at the screen, a little softer and more thoughtful than usual, made you curious.

The movie unfolded, and you couldn’t help but get sucked into the dark humor and iconic lines. But when J.D. appeared on screen, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out, “You know, J.D. kinda reminds me of you.”

Ronin froze mid-sip of his tea, slowly lowering the cup to glare at you. “Excuse me?”

You grinned, loving the reaction already. “I’m just saying! He’s all intense, mysterious, a little unhinged. Very ‘I-do-what-I-want’ vibes. Totally you.”

Ronin leaned back against the couch, giving you the most offended look you’d ever seen. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Did you just compare me to that twink?”

You burst out laughing, unable to stop yourself. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad! J.D. is, like, the ultimate bad boy. You should be flattered.”

He stared at you, his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Flattered?” he repeated. “He’s a whiny, melodramatic man-child who thinks he’s edgy because he wears a trench coat. You really think that’s me?”

“Well,” you teased, leaning in closer. “You both do have a flair for theatrics. And the whole brooding, dangerous vibe? Spot on.”

Ronin groaned, running a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “What the fuck did I fall in love with? An idiot?”

You giggled, clearly enjoying how much it got under his skin. “Admit it. You see the resemblance.”

“The only thing I see is that you have terrible taste in comparisons,” he shot back. “J.D.’s just... ugh. No. Not even close.”

“But,” you continued, ignoring his protests, “Heathers is a good movie, right? You have to admit, it’s got some great lines. Like, ‘Our love is God.’ Very Ronin-core.”

He shook his head, looking both amused and exasperated. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna start regretting letting you stay here tonight.”

You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me,” he said, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

The movie went on, you both got caught up in the story, occasionally pausing to debate certain scenes. When the moment came where J.D. goes completely off the rails, you gave Ronin a pointed look.

“Okay, this part is very you,” you said, gesturing at the screen.

Ronin threw a pillow at you without hesitation. “You’re done. No more comparisons.”

You laughed, catching the pillow and hugging it to your chest. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. But seriously, do you not see why people like this movie so much? It’s dark, it’s funny, it’s... weirdly relatable?”

He considered that for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, I get it,” he admitted. “There’s something about the way it shows how messed up people can be, but still... human, y’know? Even the worst of ‘em.”

You smiled at his thoughtful response, feeling a little proud of him for looking past the surface. “Exactly. That’s why it’s so good. It’s not just about the chaos—it’s about what drives it.”

He nodded, leaning back against the couch again. “Still not J.D., though.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, holding up your hands in surrender. “You’re way cooler than J.D. Happy?”

“Much,” he said with a smirk.

The movie ended, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the credits rolling in the background. You turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “So,” you said softly. “What did you think?”

He shrugged, but there was a glint of appreciation in his eyes. “Not bad,” he admitted. “Still think you’re insane for comparing me to that guy, though.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re just mad because I called him a twink.”

Ronin rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, and I’ll find a way to make you regret it.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” you teased, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t respond, but his arm came up to wrap around you, pulling you a little closer. Despite the banter, the warmth between you was undeniable.

The credits rolled on Heathers, Ronin leaned back, his gaze lingering on the screen with an expression you didn’t see often—soft, almost nostalgic. His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile as he exhaled deeply.

“This is my comfort movie,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Dunno why, but it’s... nice.”

You blinked in surprise, watching the way his eyes softened in the flickering light of the screen. It was rare to see him this unguarded. “Really? Heathers? I mean, I get it, but... I didn’t think you’d have a ‘comfort’ anything.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t make it weird, darlin’. Sometimes I just like somethin’ that reminds me... I dunno, that people are complicated. Flawed. And that’s okay.”

You smiled at his honesty, turning your attention back to the screen. The quiet moment between you felt strangely intimate, as if Heathers had peeled back a layer of his usual bravado to reveal something deeper.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him shifting slightly away from you. The change was subtle, but you felt the absence of his warmth immediately. You turned to him, concern knitting your brows.

“Ronin?” you asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his tone light, though his eyes flickered with something else. “Just... remembered someone, is all.”

You tilted your head, studying him carefully. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight in a way that told you it wasn’t “nothing” at all. Still, you didn’t press. Instead, you reached out, gently taking his hand in yours.

“If you need space, I can—”

“No,” he interrupted, his grip tightening around your hand. His eyes met yours, sharp yet vulnerable. “I’m fine. Stay.”

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Okay.”

The moment hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, until he cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. “Right. Enough of that,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual devil-may-care attitude. “Let’s do another movie.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You mean another comfort movie?”

He smirked, heading toward his DVD stack. “Something like that.”

You watched as he sifted through the cases, his movements deliberate but slightly mischievous. He pulled out a DVD and held it up, the grin on his face widening.

Your stomach dropped. “No.”

“Yes,” he said, his tone dripping with mock enthusiasm as he displayed the case proudly.

“No,” you repeated, more emphatically this time, as you stared at the title.

Saw.

“Yup,” he said, popping the disc into the player. “Let’s get cozy, darlin’.”

“Ronin, I swear—”

But it was too late. The screen lit up with the ominous opening sequence, and you could already feel the dread pooling in your chest. You turned to him, your expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

“Comfort movie, my ass,” you muttered.

He plopped back down beside you, pulling the blanket around both of you with a satisfied smirk. “What can I say? There’s just somethin’ about a little creative problem-solving under pressure.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do,” he said, his voice low and amused.

The movie started, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Despite your protests, you could see the way his eyes lit up at the screen, his smirk fading into an expression of genuine interest. It was maddening how much he enjoyed this stuff—but then again, it was also so him.

Saw unfolded on the screen, you quickly regretted every decision that led to this moment. The infamous reverse bear trap scene came up, Amanda crying and panicking as the countdown ticked mercilessly down. The sound effects, the tension, the gore—it all sent chills down your spine.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” you screamed, clutching the blanket tightly against your chest as if it could shield you from the horror. “NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!”

Ronin, on the other hand, was the picture of calm, his sharp eyes locked on the screen with a faint smirk. “Classic,” he murmured under his breath, clearly unbothered by the grotesque imagery.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Another loud sound from the screen had you flinging yourself at him, burying your face into his chest. “RONIN, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” you shrieked, muffled against his shirt.

He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and patted your back, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Darlin’, it’s just a movie,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “You’re actin’ like Jigsaw’s about to crawl outta the TV.”

“HE MIGHT!” you wailed, clinging to him like a lifeline. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, and you pressed your face deeper into his chest, refusing to look at the screen. “This is torture! Actual torture!”

“You’re so dramatic,” he teased, shaking his head. But despite his words, his hand rested on your back, rubbing small, reassuring circles.

Another scream from the movie made you jump so hard you nearly climbed into his lap. He burst out laughing, his chest vibrating under your cheek. “Oh, darlin’, you’re killin’ me,” he said between chuckles. “It’s just fake blood.”

“It looks real!” you snapped, finally peeking up at him. His amused expression only made your blood boil more. “Why are you so calm?! Do you have ice water in your veins?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk widening. “Or maybe I’m just built different.”

You groaned, swatting at his chest. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back, his voice softening just a fraction.

Your cheeks burned at the unexpected compliment, but before you could respond, another gory scene flashed on the screen. You let out an involuntary shriek, practically throwing yourself onto him this time. His laughter filled the room, loud and unapologetic.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, darlin’, I think I’m about to be your next victim,” he joked, though his arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Shut up!” you mumbled into his chest. “I hate this. I hate you. I hate—”

A particularly loud squelching sound interrupted you, and you let out another scream. At this point, you weren’t even sure if it was fear or frustration fueling your outbursts. All you knew was that you were glued to Ronin, and there was no way you were watching another second of this movie without him as your human shield.

The screen went black and the end credits of Saw rolled, you let out the loudest, most dramatic sigh of relief imaginable. "FINALLY! It's over!" you declared, throwing your hands up like you’d just survived a warzone.

It was then you realized you weren’t holding the plushie Ronin had thrown at you earlier. No, instead of the goose plushie or even his oddly named "Devil" plush, you were clutching onto him like your life depended on it. Your arms were tightly wound around his torso, and your head was nestled comfortably against his shoulder.

“Uh…” you blinked, processing the situation, then shot him a wide-eyed look.

Ronin tilted his head slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Comfortable there, darlin’?" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

You practically launched yourself off him, retreating to your side of the makeshift movie-watching setup so fast you might as well have left a dust trail. "WH-WH-WHAT?! NO! I—UH—PLUSHIE! I THOUGHT—"

He threw his head back and laughed, his low, rich chuckle echoing through the room. “Oh, this is priceless,” he said between breaths, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “You really ditched the plushie for me, huh?”

You sat there, clutching the goose plush to your chest now like it could erase the memory of your impromptu cuddle session. "I DIDN’T MEAN TO!" you blurted, your face burning with embarrassment. “It’s your fault for putting on such a terrifying movie!”

“Sure, sure,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. His teasing smile only grew as he leaned back against the pillows, watching your flustered reaction like it was the real entertainment. “You scream, you cry, and now you use me as a teddy bear. Guess I really am a jack-of-all-trades.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, glaring at him. But your glare had no bite, especially when your cheeks were still so red.

“Hey, I’m not complainin’,” he added with a shrug, his voice softer now. “Kinda cute, actually. You clingin’ to me like that.”

Your embarrassment doubled, and you buried your face in the plushie. "You’re the worst."

“And yet, here you are.” He chuckled again, clearly having way too much fun at your expense.

You peeked out from behind the plushie, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t think this means I like Saw now.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” he said with a grin. “But admit it, darlin’—watchin’ it with me made it… tolerable.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Maybe,” you admitted begrudgingly. “But next time, I’m picking the movie.”

Ronin smirked. “Deal. Just as long as it doesn’t put me to sleep.”

The movie droned on in the background, the slow, melodramatic music barely making a ripple in the heavy silence between you two. Ronin, lounging beside you, had shifted slightly, clearly bored, his hand resting on the blanket, his eyes flicking from the screen to you every few seconds.

You, on the other hand, were fighting to keep your eyes open, the events of the night catching up to you. It had been a long day of tension, teasing, and some undeniably embarrassing moments. You yawned quietly, doing your best to hide it behind your hand, but Ronin caught it anyway.

“You tired?” he asked, his voice a soft hum next to you.

You quickly shook your head, trying to feign alertness. "No, no, just—uh… stretching."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act, but didn't press. Instead, he grabbed the remote and clicked the pause button, halting the movie mid-scene.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dramatically throwing yourself back into the pillows, “This is a blessing.”

Ronin’s lips twitched into an amused grin. “You really don’t like this movie, do you?”

You shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “Not really. It’s so… dumb.”

He blinked in surprise. “Dumb? What’s so dumb about it?”

You scoffed, sitting up slightly as you explained, “The man’s literally tearing himself apart because he’s stuck in the past. He can't say ‘I love you’ to this person because of some memories with his first love. And the other person is making him choose between them or his past. It’s just… dumb.”

Ronin’s head tilted slightly, the usual cocky edge to his expression faltering for a moment. “You’re saying it’s dumb because of the past?”

You nodded, feeling strangely passionate about it. “Yeah. It’s like… why should someone have to pick between their past and their future? Memories are a part of who you are. If it’s comforting to him, if his first love gave him something—then that’s just a part of him. The second person, they’re asking him to forget all that, and that’s not fair. No one can erase their past, no matter how perfect the present is. The past shapes people, it’s not something you can just toss away.”

You paused, then added softly, “It’s not about forgetting someone or something… it’s just about making space for the new things, too. You can still carry those memories with you, even if you move on.”

Ronin stared at you for a long moment, his gaze searching, intense as always. Then, slowly, he let out a low sigh and shifted in his seat, bringing his knees up and crossing his arms. “And what would you do in a situation like that?”

Your heart skipped, his question suddenly feeling a little too real. You looked at him for a beat, chewing on your lip. “I’d comfort the guy,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’d tell him, it’s okay. That it's okay to have those memories. Because they made him who he is. I’d be glad he trusted me enough to share them, to open up about his first love. It’s a huge thing to let someone into those spaces of your heart.”

You shrugged, offering a small smile. “And, I guess… I’d be happy knowing that I have a place in his heart, too. Even if it’s not all of it.”

Ronin’s eyes narrowed a fraction, his mouth turning into a small, thoughtful frown. You couldn’t quite tell if it was just your words or something else that had made his expression shift.

He stared at the screen for a long moment before looking back at you. His voice was quieter now, almost contemplative. “You’d really feel that way? You wouldn’t feel… second best?”

You shrugged again, a faint chuckle escaping you. “Nope. Not at all. Because it’s not about being ‘first’ or ‘second.’ It’s about being there for the person. If they let you in, even just a little, that’s enough.”

Ronin’s eyes softened ever so slightly. You didn’t miss the shift in his demeanor, the way his posture relaxed. It felt like, for a brief moment, something between you two had clicked. You were both sitting on the floor, surrounded by pillows and blankets, a cozy little cocoon, yet it felt like the world had just gotten a little bit bigger—more open.

“Well,” he said, his voice warm but with a touch of amusement returning to his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you should feel more curious or confused. “What do you mean?”

Ronin’s eyes flicked over to you, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, after a brief, tense silence, he shrugged. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “Maybe.”

You leaned back against the pillows, letting the quiet fill the space. The movie was still paused on the screen, the sappy romantic scene playing out in the background, but it hardly mattered anymore. The tension that had once been in the air had softened, replaced by something warmer, more genuine.

The silence between you and Ronin stretched, the weight of the unspoken words thick in the air. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing next to you, his presence so palpable it was like a shield. The movie played on in the background, its plot long forgotten, but neither of you seemed to care anymore.

The blanket cocooned you both, the warmth and closeness making it feel like a world of your own. You turned to look at him, the moment heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ronin didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, unexpected kiss. It was a surprise, one that made your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t hesitate. You kissed him back, the connection between you both deepening with each passing second. The kiss wasn’t rushed; it was gentle, a silent affirmation of everything that had been said and unsaid between you two.

The movie continued to run, but neither of you were paying attention. The only thing that mattered was the shared comfort of the blanket, the warmth of Ronin’s arms around you, and the way the kiss felt like something unspoken yet understood.

Ronin pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened. "Thank you," he murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear. It was a small, simple sentence, but the way it made your chest tighten told you just how much it meant.

Before you could respond, Ronin kissed you again, his lips brushing yours in a way that said more than words ever could. He didn’t give you the chance to ask why, didn’t give you the space to pull away or question anything. He just held you close, his presence quiet but powerful, and his kisses wrapped around you like a promise.

You leaned into him, your heart pounding in your chest, but for some reason, there was no need to talk. You just let yourself melt into him, and as his head settled on yours, your own resting on his neck, you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with sleep, and before you knew it, your yawn escaped, followed by a soft mumble. Ronin didn’t say anything, just held you close as the warmth of his embrace lulled you into sleep.

You drifted off, you felt the movie still running, but it faded into the background as Ronin gently closed the TV. He kissed your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the most comforting way.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he whispered softly, his voice a balm to your tired soul.

Before you could respond, you felt yourself being lifted. You blinked sleepily, your mind too foggy to fully comprehend what was happening. “Is it okay if I sleep with you?” you asked, your voice drowsy and uncertain.

Ronin’s smile was soft, almost fond, as he nodded. “Yes, of course,” he replied, his voice so gentle it made your heart swell.

You barely had the energy to process his words as he carried you to bed, your head resting against his chest, your limbs draped around him in a tangle of sleepy comfort. You mumbled something incoherent in your haze of exhaustion, your voice trailing off as you finally succumbed to the sleep that had been creeping up on you all night.

“Ronin,” you mumbled again, this time with more clarity, “I love you.”

Ronin paused for a brief moment, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. Then, in a low, quiet voice, he whispered back in Cantonese, “I love you.”

He kissed your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and then, without another word, he pulled you closer, holding you securely as he cuddled you to sleep.

Ronin held you close, his arms tight around you as you nestled against his chest, the night filling with a comfortable silence. His fingers lightly traced patterns on your back, but then his voice broke the quiet, low and steady, a tone that held so many unspoken emotions. His Cantonese words flowed softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

"你知道嗎？我從來沒有想過會有人出現在我這種腐朽的生活中。" (Nei zi dou maa? Ngoh chung loi meiyou seung gwo wui yahn chut joi ngo jeung chong fu gau dik sang wut jung.)

You looked up at him, trying to focus on what he was saying, his eyes soft but distant. He continued, the words coming out more slowly, as if they were something he had been holding back for a long time.

"你就像一個腐爛的聖人，從來沒有人能看見我，直到你出現了。你，存在於這裡，像是我生命中的一線光芒，讓我明白還有別的可能，還有希望。” (Nei jauh cheung yat go fu laan dik sing yan, chong loi mei yauh yahn nang hon gin ngo, jik dou nei chut yin la. Nei, chyun joi yu jeui lei, cheung si ngo sang ming jung dik yat sin gwong mong, yeung ngo ming baak waan yauh bit dik hoh ning, waan yauh hei mong.)

He sighed deeply, resting his chin atop your head. His voice was softer now, the weight of his words almost breaking through the stone walls he had built around himself.

"多謝你存在，謝謝你出現在我的生命裡，讓我明白一切都還不算太遲。" (Do jeh nei chyun joi, jeh jeh nei chut yin joi ngo dik sang ming leui, yeung ngo ming baak yat chai dou waan bat syun taai chi.)

You felt a slight tension in his body, as if he was waiting for something, but it wasn’t about you needing to say anything. He was giving you a part of himself he rarely shared, in the rawest form he knew how to.

"你知唔知…我愛你？" (Nei zi m zi... ngoh oi nei?)

His voice was hushed, a whisper against the stillness. Even though you didn’t fully understand the depth of everything he was saying, the emotion in his voice was clear. You felt it resonate deep inside you.

"謝謝你存在在這裡，謝謝你愛我…" (Je jeh nei chyun joi joi jeui lei, je jeh nei oi ngo...)

He pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you like he wanted to never let go. The words flowed from him without hesitation now, the raw honesty of it making your heart ache.

"你讓我覺得，這個世界不再那麼腐爛。我一度以為自己只是一個壞人，但遇見你之後，才知道也許我還有資格去愛。" (Nei yeung ngo gok dak, je go sai gaai bat joi naam mo fu laan. Ngoh yat dou yi wai ji gei chi sik yat go waai yan, daan yu gin nei ji hau, coi ji dou ya heui ngo waan yauh ji gaak heoi oi.)

He closed his eyes, as though the confession was not just for you, but for himself. A deep breath escaped his lips, and his voice was barely above a murmur when he added, "我愛你，謝謝你讓我感覺到一點溫暖..." (Ngoh oi nei, je jeh nei yeung ngo gam gok dou yat dim wan neung...)

"You know? I never thought someone would come into my rotten life like this."

"You’re like a rotten saint, no one ever saw me until you appeared. You, existing here, are like a ray of light in my life, making me realize that there are still other possibilities, still hope."

"Thank you for existing, thank you for appearing in my life, making me realize that not everything is too late."

"Do you know... I love you?"

"Thank you for existing here, thank you for loving me..."

"You make me feel like the world isn't so rotten anymore. I once thought I was just a bad person, but after meeting you, I realized that maybe I still have the right to love."

"I love you, thank you for making me feel a little warmth..."

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