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Saiki Kusuo sighed as he opened the front door to his apartment. The weight of the day hung heavily on him—work had been long, draining, and filled with the usual chaos. All he wanted was some peace, some quiet, and... well, her.
As he stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the living room greeted him. The scent of her perfume—light, floral—lingered faintly in the air. Teruhashi Kokomi sat on the couch by the window, her legs tucked underneath her as she flipped through a magazine. A soft glow from the nearby lamp highlighted her features, and the sight of her brought a sense of calm that nothing else ever could.
“Kusuo?” She looked up when she heard him, her face lighting up. "You’re back! I kept dinner warm for you if you—" she asked, blinking in surprise.
He didn’t let her finish. Without a word, he crossed the room, dropped onto the couch beside her, and wrapped his arms around her. His face pressed into her shoulder, and he let out a low muffled sigh, his body finally relaxing as he held her.
“Kusuo?” she blinked, startled by the sudden affection, but she quickly softened. He wasn’t usually this forward—not like this, anyway. But the weight in his embrace and the tension in his body told her everything she needed to know.
Teruhashi froze for a moment, “Rough day?” she asked gently, her voice carrying that kind, concerned tone that always made Saiki’s chest ache in the best way.
He nodded, his face still buried against her.
“Well, at least tell me what happened,” she said, running her fingers lightly through his hair.
Later, his voice came into her mind, soft and distant. He didn’t lift his head, his words faint and tinged with exhaustion.
She smiled, though she couldn’t help but tease him a little. “You’re going to fall asleep like that, you know. The couch isn’t exactly the best place for—”
‘Dont care.’ came his response, firm but quiet.
Teruhashi sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “You’re impossible, Kusuo.” But she shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable, resting her cheek against the top of his head.
Minutes passed in comfortable silence. The steady ticking of the clock filled the room, blending with the distant hum of the city outside. Saiki’s breathing grew slower, deeper, and his hold on her loosened just slightly as he began to drift off.
“Are you really going to sleep here?” she asked softly, though she already knew the answer.
He only tightened his hold on her, mumbling something unintelligible into her shoulder.
“Kusuo…” she sighed, though her tone lacked any real frustration. Instead, she rested her head against his and let her fingers trace soothing circles along his back. The rise and fall of his chest against her own was strangely comforting, and soon, she found herself relaxing too.
He didn’t respond this time, not even telepathically. His arms around her remained firm, as if letting go wasn’t an option, and she couldn’t bring herself to move him.
As she stared out the window, watching the faint glow of streetlights and passing cars, a thought crossed her mind. How had they ended up here, together like this? If someone had told her years ago that she’d be cuddling on a couch with Saiki Kusuo, the boy who once seemed so distant and mysterious, she wouldn’t have believed it.
But now, she couldn’t imagine life without him.
With a small laugh, she brushed a strand of hair from his face and whispered, “Fine. Just this once.”
His only response was a soft hum, his grip on her never faltering.
And as the city outside carried on, the two of them stayed wrapped up in their little world—a quiet, simple moment that neither of them would trade for anything.
"Goodnight, Kusuo," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
As Saiki drifted off to sleep, his hold on her never loosened. For the first time all day, he felt at peace—not because the world outside had gotten any quieter, but because she was here. And that was all he needed.