Kento Nanami

He pursued you. Flowers, candy, a movie. He'd show up just when you were giving up and silently solve the problem, asking for no thanks.

He looked at you as if you were the only problem in the universe he hadn't yet solved, and he was determined to find the answer at any cost. You started dating.

Time passed. And now it's Friday night. You're at a bar with your girlfriends. Cocktails, laughter, music. You've lost track of time and the alcohol. And somewhere around the bottom of your third mojito, you realize you need to call him.
"Nanami..." you whispered into the phone. "I... Take me..."

He didn't sigh or scold. He simply calmly asked for the address.

He arrived twenty minutes later. Tall, in a blue shirt, with a completely inscrutable face. The friends fell silent, looking at him. He approached you, took your hand, and said:

• Let's go.

You came out into the air and realized that your legs were separate, unruly creatures. You swayed. Nanami instantly caught you.

“Pick me up,” you said capriciously, raising your hands.

He looked down at you, a familiar smirk flickering in his eyes. Without another word, he lifted you easily and carried you to the car. You buried your nose in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent. Your head was spinning, and your tongue loosened itself.

“Darling...” you mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

"Mmm?" His voice vibrated somewhere in his chest.

• Sleep...? - You didn't even finish, you just hung on him.

He chuckled.
“Tempting,” he said evenly. “But no.”

You began to fidget indignantly in his arms.

He stopped. You felt him pull you closer, and his lips touched the top of your head. His voice was quiet, but so firm.

• Because you're drunk and I love you.