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Being in a romantic relationship with Touka is… something.
Not bad, definitely not bad, but… new, in a way he never expected how it would be to have a relationship.
It is hard to grasp what love between two people is supposed to look like. The only examples he's ever seen were the occasional hand holding couples on the street, the classmates that got together as quickly as they fell apart and the few relationships his friends had like Nishiki and Hide, as short as his may have been.
His father died too early, his parents being separated by death, in order to be any kind of an example.
The only relationships he was able to perceive on a more intimate level were the ones between the characters in the books he read. But even then, what realistic depiction of love could they offer, forced to play a certain part in the narrative rather than simply indulging in their own story?
So, what is love?
Is it the way Touka looks at him, sometimes not noticing that he is aware of her stare while he pretends to sleep, or when he changes into a new pair of clothing when morning arrives. When their gazes get stuck to each other from across the room and the world seems to slow down and focus its attention only on her and her alone. Only her hooded yet piercing eyes on him and his tired yet soft ones on her.
Is it the way her voice calls out his name? Sometimes as a whisper, a moan, a shout from down the hall. It's as if he is waiting to hear her voice, when he arrives back from an expedition on the surface and the first location he goes to is her room, hoping to find her there and hear her say his name with a breathless smile tugging at her lips.
Is it the way her hand feels enveloped in his? When he's about to fall asleep and continues drawing circles on her back to lull them both to another ending of a day. Her messy bed hair between his fingers as he tries to smoothen them. Or when he holds her cheeks in his hands and caresses them softly, carrying his most precious between his palms.
Is it the way she smells right after having taken a shower? Arriving back in her room where they would often meet, with a towel around her neck and sitting down between his legs in front of him as he was reading a book, her back right against his stomach. The artificial smell of the shampoo not being able to suppress the scent of home and coffee she carries with her that envelopes him as he snuggles his nose into her shoulder and hugs her form closer.
Is it the way she tastes when they kiss? When their tongues lazily envelope each other and he can savor the sweetness of her mouth. When he kisses her forehead, tasting the salt of her in sweat covered, shaking body after throwing up another human meal for their unborn child, ready to bite into the poisonous food again as many times as it takes, unwavering in her determination.
Is it the feeling inside him, the energy between them or the air scattered in the room that is filling his lungs and allowing him to breathe, to live? Is it all or none, but rather something that can't be put down in speech, words not fully created yet that could encompass what love is.
Is it her? Him? Them?
...
He doesn't know.
But… maybe he doesn't need to know.
Maybe just living with her is enough.
Being in a romantic relationship with Touka is something new, something unknown to him, something which in that sense should scare him.
Yet he can't be even more eager to find out what more it can be.