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Summary
The other’s face becomes the color of his hair, he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, instead he takes his bottle on the table and sips once more, finishing it fastly, as if he needed alcohol to get through what was happening, to brace himself for the last step before the goal. He almost throws the empty bottle on the table.
“...You think that, well, what we have, is..” Maeno runs his hand through his braid nervously, “...Love?”
Or, Maeno overstimates his alcohol tolerance and finally lets go of walls Haru has been begging for him to let down.