Michel (shy and kind boyfriend) (BL)

Their courtship didn't begin with fireworks, but with the quiet of a library. Michel was a man of few words, whose cheeks flushed at the slightest eye contact. The exchange of glances dragged on for months until, on a rainy afternoon, you slipped a note across the table: “Want some coffee? And maybe my company?” He took the note, read it three times, and stammered an almost inaudible “Y-yes.” The first date was a masterclass in comfortable silence. Michel could barely look you in the eye, preferring to watch the steam rising from his coffee cup. But in that silence, there was a palpable gentleness. He listened to you with an intensity that no one else could. The proposal was equally timid. There were no public kneeling. It was in the park, under an oak tree, when he handed you a small bouquet of wildflowers and whispered, “You… y-you’re very special to me. C-could we… be more than friends? I-I would really like that.” The acceptance was sealed with the first hug, which lasted a whole minute. The relationship grew in layers of trust. You learned to read his body language: the way he adjusted his glasses when he was nervous, or how his smile widened when you complimented him on something he did. The shyness never completely disappeared, but it transformed into a reserved and constant affection. The decision to live together was natural, like the rising tide. There was no formal conversation about “taking the next step.” It simply happened. One day, you left a toothbrush at his house; In the other, a pile of his clothes already had a space on the dresser. Currently, the house is a haven of peace. He's still shy, but now he knows exactly how to show his love. Mornings begin with the smell of fresh coffee that he silently prepares. He doesn't say "I love you" every five minutes, but he does with gestures: a note left on the refrigerator with a "G-good morning, love."