a heavy sigh falls from your lips.
"i'm jus' having a day."
satoru huffs. "you're telling me... that you're having a day... aaaaaaall by yourself, handsome?"
you don't need to look at him to know that he's wiggling his eyebrows. dummy. faintly shaking your head, you try to brush his stupid comment off but your lips have a mind of their own, so used to a smile that they're already twitching upward. and satoru being satoru, he takes it as a very good sign to continue. "i can't believe the love of my life is having a day – without me. betrayal, i tell you, absolute betrayal."
he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, thighs touching. no inches between you.
"stop..." you whine. "let me have my day..."
"no way, baby. we're having a day." tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and he whispers — "together."
when you turn to face him, your noses touch. he never did know what personal space is but it's not like you mind (you love it). he looks into your weary eyes, hiding his frown. he nudges his nose against yours and presses a quick kiss to it.
"so is it a 'quiet' day or a 'sleep' day or a 'bath' day or a 'film' day or a 'park' day or....?" his voice is so soft and sugary and warm and caring and you immediately get lost in your thoughts. he's so sweet. you're so grateful for him. if you told him to be quiet for the rest of his life, he'd do it. it'd be very fucking hard but for you – he'd do it without a second thought. and now he's here, asking you what kind of a day you're having. he would've probably wanted to play video games or make-out or go bully suguru but he won't even bring it up because he can see that it's not the right time for that. and you're so grateful. what did you do to deserve a boyfriend like this? a boyfriend who's so ready to put your needs above his, always and forever.
he observes you in your little mind palace, your eyes are little zoned out and it just might be the cutest thing. he places his hand on your thigh, gently pulling you back to him. he doesn't say anything, only giving you a reassuring smile. you love him.
"a 'quiet' day, i think." your head falls against his shoulder with a soft thump.
"okay."
pressing his soft lips to your forehead, he draws hearts on your back.
a quiet 'sorry' tries to hide inside the crook of his neck, burrowing itself into his hoodie. he catches it, though. like always.
"sorry for what?"
"this."
a rumble in his chest, you feel it so clearly.
"you're sorry for having a day?"
an incoherent mumble is his answer.
craning his neck, he tries to look down on you. a finger finds your nose and boops! it, making you sink deeper into him.
"my baby."
it's like honey – the sweetest coo in the whole wide world. he pours it all over you, covering you in his love, sticking you to him. you don't mind (you love it).
"never ever ever ever apologize for that stupid shit again, though."
...
and there it is — a snicker. not a full laugh but it's enough.
"like - damn, you really are dense sometimes, baby." he whistles, earning him a punch to his chest. and a smile. he's getting there.
"what the fuck is wrong with you, satoru?" sitting up straight, you force your lips into a thin line (it's so hard to not smile around him). "i'm over here begging for mercy for being, oh, i don't know, vulnerable, and you tell me that i'm dense?"
hastily you stand from the couch, leaving satoru staring up at you with a big grin. "what a good boyfriend." you scoff. but your words mean absolute jack shit to him, it's like water off a goose. he's never been more in love. he sees another twitch of your lips and he knows he has you.
turning away, you're ready to make a bit of a scene, ready to stomp your feet, ready to forget everything about your day but you can't. an ungodly strength has you glued to your spot because satoru has other plans. his fingers wrap around your wrist, easily pulling you straight down onto his lap. he mumbles a quick 'the best boyfriend' before attacking you with a quick press of his lips to yours and a smirk and you know you're fucked. this wasn't your plan. this is bad. this is extremely bad. you know what he's gonna do and you can't do anything about it. no, no, no. you were supposed to stomp away and wait for him to come hug you from the back, being all cuddly and cute — this was not the plan.
it's his ultimate power move. tickles.
you hate him.
(you love him so much that you fear your heart will literally explode every time you're around him).
and then his fingers are running all over your sides, laughter bubbling from your throat, no matter how hard you try to hold it back. he manages to hold you down and torture you at the same time, it's unforgiving (and impressive but you won't tell him that). tears brim in your eyes and he can't stop looking at you.
this is how you should look all the time. not the tears in your eyes, of course, but the smile. oh, the smile. from one ear all the way to the other. the corners of your eyes crinkling. he can't wait to grow old with you and see the smile wrinkles, these'll definitely be one of his greatest achievements. he's so serious about it.
luckily, he doesn't keep it up for too long, letting you catch your breath – your head falling back onto his chest, right above his heart.
"you're such a dick."
"you love me so much, i'm surprised you haven't proposed yet."
another weak slap against his chest and he laughs. loud and full of love.
a comfortable silence. his hands rest on your waist, soaking in the feeling of your skin, the feeling of you on him, your heart so near his. you trying to get a grip and he's enjoying his time with you. he could be watching paint dry with you and he'd love it. he hopes you know that (he needs you to know that).
"we can still do a crying party... if you want." his breath tickles your ear. "i'll cry with you."
you're so grateful.
snaking your hands behind his neck, you pull him close. "thank you."
"anything for you. everything for you."
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