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"Ugh!"
You groaned in annoyance, tossing the phone somewhere away, way more harshly than needed, and rubbed your temples. God, your parents would surely find a way to drive you mad, one way or another.
"What is it?"
Your friend of — God knows how long — Satoru mumbled absent-mindedly, his eyes fixed on the screen of his PSP. Not even looking up to witness your sufferings.
You shot him a glance, enough to notice a tiny pixel Digimon jumping up and down under Satoru's guidance, and then scoffed. A bit too dramatic, perhaps, and slumped in your favourite chair. A throw pillow fell victim to your nervousness as you started anxiously tugging its threads out.
Silence followed, only interrupted by his quiet mutterings and the sounds of the game, until you heard a distinctive "GAME OVER" sound.
"Hey. What is going on?"
Satoru's voice finally pulled you out of the nervous maze of endless what-ifs that your mind seemed to be in. You glanced up — only to meet his gaze, soft and curious behind his usual rectangular glasses. He pushed them up, a habit of his, and you confessed with a long deliberate sigh.
"My Mom's just had this ‘genius’ idea," you drawled sarcastically, making quotation marks in the air with your fingers, "that I should bring my," you paused as the next word seemed to physically pain you, "my boyfriend to her birthday, which, as you may know, is the next..."
"The next Sunday," Satoru finished, and you nodded. Of course, he knew. He had this weird thing of always remembering all holidays and birthdays. Another perfect thing of his that you sucked at.
Then his brows furrowed in confusion, and he leaned a little bit forward, rubbing his jaw in thought.
“Didn't you break up with Naoya last week?"
Your shoulders visibly tensed at the mention of the jackass that your ex was. You clenched your jaw so hard you swore you could hear the teeth crushing. An infamous effect of Naoya Zenin. Before you could actually go mad at the sheer mention of the asshole's name, you closed your eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Then, strangely calmly, you murmured.
"That I did."
Satoru gave you a weird look. He slowly nodded and leaned back, drumming his fingers against the back of the couch. He studied you carefully, as if you were a wounded animal he didn't dare to approach, before asking in a tone that was more than affirmative.
“And you didn't tell your mom."
"Of course not!" You exclaimed from your seat, as the mere suggestion was blasphemous. Because, truthfully, your mom, whether it was her own intention or under the influence of your countless aunties, slowly yet surely started nagging you about marriage and grandkids. You tried your best in explaining that you weren't planning on anything like this soon. This all fell on deaf ears. You knew she wanted the best for you, though lately it brought you nothing but annoyance.
No wonder she was ecstatic at the news about your ex-boyfriend. Of course, she was. Of course, she told the entire family. And, of course, she decided it was high time to meet this mysterious figure in person.
Unfortunately, you had already run out of all imaginable and unimaginable excuses for not bringing him to any family dinner he got an invitation for, but this time, she cut you off before you could even come up with anything more or less believable.
Now it was too late. Your lies would be exposed. You would fall victim to the endless oh's, ah's and what a shame's. You could already picture disappointment on your Mom's face and pitying glances from Aunt Marie.
You shuddered with horror.
Caught between the endless possibilities of what your future inevitable humiliation would look like, as you paced the living room, you didn't notice Satoru finally abandoning his PSP somewhere on the couch. He brushed his fingers through the hair, and now it was sticking in different directions, as if he were a frenzied Sonic the Hedgehog. He turned his head just a little left, and the strands caught the afternoon light, making it look like snow in the bright day.
That caught your attention.
You stopped pacing and stared at Satoru like you just saw him for the first time.
A hem of his hoodie railed up a little, revealing a sliver of toned abs and veins, running down to the—
You shook your head in terror and pressed palms against your eyes.
You knew that despite the long limbs, oversized hoodies, disastrous Digimon t-shirts and cargo trousers, Satoru, indeed, was kind of...packed. He was tall, really tall, but usually slouched under the weight of endless responsibilities, assignments, deadlines and reports. His eyes — bright blue, like the morning April sky was spilled directly in his irises, that seemed to look right into your soul, usually got lost behind thick lenses of rectangular glasses. Not to mention a ridiculous shade of his white hair, that, somehow, suited him. Strangely, in your eyes, Satoru rocked that look. You told him numerous times he could get any girl (or a boy: you suspected his crush on Nanami to reach beyond pure academic rivalry), but he just casually brushed it off. You even tried to set him up with a groupmate of yours once — that turned into a catastrophe. You agreed to never bring it up.
No big deal, you thought. You saw him countless times dressing. You knew him if not since diapers, then since the first spilled juice in kindergarten.
But what truly mortified you…
"You're a man," you breathed out in disbelief, staring into the void. A dangerous thought slowly formed in your mind. "A guy.”
Satoru paused mid-yawn and stared back at you. Then he dropped his gaze and quickly tugged the hem of the hoodie down. The tips of his ears went slightly red.
"Well, thank you for this outstanding observation," he murmured as he took the glasses off and proceeded to wipe them. He didn't notice the smirk that already made its way on your face. Otherwise, he would've been very disturbed by the uncanny resemblance to Hannibal Lecter.
You quickly reached to take his glasses and tossed them on a coffee table. Before he could even voice a protest, you presented the genius idea that had been brewing in your mind all this time.
"Be my boyfriend!"
Satoru stared at you as you had just announced the Earth was flat. Or his super-duper extra Galanthmon (X Antibody) card lost all its rarity. Or the Sun stopped reversing its large-scale magnetic field.
In other words, he was completely shocked.
His cheeks went from extremely pale to horrendously pink in a span of a minute, as well as his neck, and as he thought about whether he died and ended up in heaven, because no way you finally saw through him, you quickly brought him back to Earth.
"For the dinner, I mean," you quickly clarified.
A strange kind of nervous anticipation and excitement that sparkled in his blue eyes at your words quickly gave in to weird disappointment that churned unpleasantly in his chest. Of course, you meant it like that.
Satoru slightly straightened on the couch until his back hit the side of it, so he would have a better glance at you. He let out an awkward chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck in that nerdy way only nerds were able to do.
"I don't know, honestly. I have to finish the first draft of the Hubble tension paper. Professor Yaga’s already at my back for this. And I finally want to visit a science fair at Tokyo University. They are going to display that model of the solar system, can you imagine it? We can go out together and —”
Your eyes softened at his adorable nervous rambling. You moved closer. So close, you could see the faintest pale freckles that adorned his nose and cheeks, each flutter of long pale lashes (seriously, why were they so long?) and the little spots in the bright blue of his eyes.
He closed his mouth comically fast and just stared back at you. You noticed Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed with effort.
"Don't get me wrong, you are very beautiful," his voice somehow bordered on adoration and nervousness, "Even gorgeous."
"Even gorgeous?" You couldn't help but finally crack a sincere smile at the way he stumbled over words. He nodded eagerly, and a little grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah. I am just—," he huffed a breath and looked around the room like it could give him clues to get out of your trap. “Gonna be really busy!”
You laughed, leaning back, and Satoru could finally let a breath of relief after his mortal existence shrank to the feeling of your breath on his cheeks.
"Come on, Satoru. Just for this godforsaken dinner. I didn't tell Mom the name."
"Plus, she knows you," you chirped. "It would be way easier."
A couple of seconds passed in relative silence before he straightened on the couch and shook his head vigorously.
"No way it would be easier." Your smile slowly faded, and you cast Satoru a quick unsure glance. You didn’t expect him to be so stubborn all of a sudden. "She knows me. And what are we gonna do after that? Keep pretending?”
You didn’t have a lot of time to properly think through that genius plan, so you just shot back.
"Or we can say things didn't go as we planned, and we'd better stay friends," you cornered immediately.
"Yeah, sure."
God, how you hated when his voice carried that cocky sarcastic edge. You didn’t have the mood to come up with something more plausible for the upcoming dinner.
You pressed your palms together as in a prayer.
"Toru. Please. You know how they are! Mom will torment me endlessly about my boyfriend and family and the whole "why-aren't-you-settling-in" stuff. I think I'm gonna pull on my hair the next time she merely suggests it. Or hung myself in the main bathroom. Like a performance stunt. My note of protest!"
That earned you a deep heartfelt chuckle, and you beamed in response to his laugh.
"See? You don't want me to suffer, do you? Please, Toru, please!"
Satoru’s ears went slightly pinkish. He knew where it was going. When your voice dipped to that sweet saccharine tone, tinged with underlying affection only you were able to muster, he knew he was gone. Not to mention the soft look in your eyes that could have him gone in less than a second. He knew he would give his entire Digimon card collection for a mere glance like this.
However, he still tried to keep a shred of his dignity.
"I'll think about it."
A wide grin on your face suggested you both knew the answer.
***
Your eyes nervously scanned a library, bustling with students at this hour. Here and there, you heard quiet curses and mutterings of a random lecture. The air felt heavy with the dread of upcoming deadlines and exams, rhythmic tap taps on the keyboards of laptops paired with the rustling of the pages turned had long become the library's eternal hymn.
Usually, this cacophony would only bring you comfort, but not today.
You finally found Satoru near the corner. His knee bounced nervously as he tapped something on a laptop, probably solving problems that could've given you an existential crisis just from their look. His coffee (late with extra strawberry syrup) had long gone cold, which suggested he was solving something really complicated.
After some moments, he released a quiet sigh, filled with annoyance, and stretched a little. You heard him exhaling in relief as he tilted his neck from side to side.
At that point, you felt somehow like a stalker by quietly observing him, so you decided to stop being so creepy and finally showed up at the table.
"Hi!"
His gaze immediately snapped up to you, and after a few blinks, his eyes widened in familiarity, and a big grin appeared on his face. He stood up so abruptly his chair screeched unpleasantly against the floor, earning disapproving glances from other suffering souls nearby. He murmured “sorry” to them, but brought you another chair.
You slumped immediately into it and mindlessly reached for his cup of coffee. Once the sugar hit your teeth, you spluttered and wiped your mouth.
"Geez, how on earth do you drink it? You wanna get a sugar coma?"
He gave you an annoyed look and ran his fingers through the silvery hair. "Sugar boosts brain activity. Besides..."
You had already zoned out, for you knew this usual lecture by heart already. However, you didn't notice how his gaze lingered on your tired form longer than usual, and after a pause, he asked you quietly.
"You alright?"
You quickly glanced up and met his worried expression. Mindlessly, he reached for your hand. Your fingers brushed in a brief contact, and as you stared down at them for too long, Satoru quickly put them away.
"Sorry, I—"
"No, No. It's okay."
You closed your eyes, clearly exhausted. The last couple of days, you had been running like a hamster in a wheel, high on caffeine and upcoming deadlines. Not to mention the godforsaken dinner, which was the main reason you came to the library.
Slowly, you pulled your laptop out of your bag. Satoru watched you from the corner of his eye, his fingers hovering over the touchpad as his knee still bounced up and down under the table.
"So," you opened the paper on social media censorship and tried to sound as nonchalant as ever, but the way your voice rose in pitch betrayed nervousness. Satoru gave you a side eye. "What did you think of my idea?"
"Which one? The one with that frat party or Naoya’s—”
Your eyes remained glued to the first line of a new paragraph about censorship in Chinese media, but when Satoru mentioned the asshole’s name, you hissed at him to shut up.
“My, my, no need to be violent with your best friend.”
You gasped at the audacity and closed the laptop abruptly, causing other zombie visitors of the library to shush you. You both quickly apologized, and then you murmured in a voice that seemed to carry all the misery of the gruesome world.
"Is that really so hard to help your friend, Toru?"
Satoru looked at you briefly and then dropped his gaze because you were staring right into his eyes, and gods, he couldn't meet your gaze now.
How could he put it?
"Yeah, it is really hard, when your best friend — the only true friend you actually had — asks you to be her fake boyfriend at the dinner with all her family, her mom, who tends to cup his cheeks and say "Satoru-kun, you've grown so much!" or your Dad with a firm handshake or your Grandpa, whom he often helps to solve scanwords. Pretending to recall your non-existent dates, fathom confessions and stolen kisses, that only took place in his imagination. Yeah. That was hard.”
He nervously fidgeted with a pen in his hand and finally found the courage to look up at you.
Your eyes lacked their usual sharpness, tiredness was etched into your features, and the eyebags were too noticeable for his liking. Your skin was a little bit pale. You must've stayed up at night to study for your exam after a shift at a cafe.
Still. You were so beautiful.
He sighed inwardly. Deep down, he agreed to your idea the very moment the words left your lips.
Because he could not.
"It's not that hard," Satoru murmured faintly with a small shake of his head, and absolutely hated the way his heart jumped at the way your eyes glimmered with hope.
"So? Is that a yes?"
A big heartfelt smile that broke on your face after he finally agreed, felt as if the sun had peeked from the clouds and decided to grace poor mortals with its light.
Just your smile, and he felt like his world had rearranged itself once again to your existence.
"You're the bestest friend in the world, Toru!" You squeaked with delight as you hugged him by the neck, planting a big smooch on his cheek.
“This word doesn’t even exist—,“ he murmured with an airy chuckle, but there was no way he could fight a stupid, dopey grin on his face.
***
The next couple of days leading up to the infamous dinner passed in a blur of lectures, shifts at the cafe and occasional study sessions with Satoru. You didn't even notice it was Saturday already, and, God, how you wished it had never come.
Your room resembled more of a battlefield with a bunch of clothes scattered on the bed, shoes thrown everywhere, and make-up abandoned on a bedside table.
Satoru thought you looked like a seasoned soldier, wielding a weapon (your styler), after you let him in and complained about the lack of clothes, your shitty boss at the café, and a particularly stupid question at the exam yesterday. He leaned in, resting his cheek on his palm, and just observed you with a soft grin. Even in this chaotic mess, you still mesmerized him.
"Hey, are you even listening?"
Satoru blinked in surprise, and he quickly schooled his expression. He looked up to meet your gaze full of judgment as you pointed the styler at him in accusation. Soft curls now framed your face in a way that made his heart flutter. He coughed.
"...No."
You sighed and glared weakly. "At least you're honest."
You walked to the mirror and reached for hairpins to put some curls away in a half-up, half-down style. Your thoughts kept drifting to the dinner, the questions your family was about to torment you with. Or maybe no, and Satoru’s presence as your “boyfriend” would tame them a little, and you could finally continue to live your silly little life. You didn’t know why, but the Universe, the Fate, or all the gods in the world seemed to conspire against you, so minus the dinner, your week was especially shitty. The questions on the stupid philosophy exam were tricky, visitors at the cafe kept asking you for a pumpkin caramel late, when you already had run out of caramel (not anyone’s fault but your supplier’s, obviously).
Your fingers twitched, and hairpins fell once again. You cursed under your breath.
"Let me."
You didn't even get to nod when Satoru suddenly appeared beside you. You watched in reflection as he worked on your hairstyle with the same precision and diligence he dedicated to everything else. His white brows furrowed a little at the effort, and you caught yourself thinking that he was adorable.
Wait.
What the hell?
He certainly wasn’t supposed to be adorable. And so caring. And—
"Here you go," he said, securing the last hairpin with a steady touch, and stepped back a little, so you could turn around to check it in the mirror.
"Didn't know you were such a stylist," you murmured and gave him a weak smile in gratitude.
"I am not. Tsumiki loves doing her hair. You know that," he shrugged casually, like it wasn't a big deal, but you noticed the way his whole face softened when he spoke about his little sister.
"Aw. Such a nice big brother."
He laughed softly, and you found yourself mirroring his smile.
"That I am."
Silence wrapped around you like a blanket, soft and tender, the one that could only exist when words were not needed at all. Satoru met your gaze and reached to tuck a stray hair strand behind your ear. His fingers were slightly trembling, but when his thumb brushed against your cheekbone, there wasn't any hesitation.
"You look beautiful like this."
You swallowed. The room now felt too small for both of you, and you desperately needed a bit of air. And space.
"I…Uhm, yeah. Thank you," you chuckled awkwardly. Your gaze briefly flickered to his hand on your face, still cupping it. His touch was warm and pleasant. Shivers ran down your spine; you didn’t want to pull away. Satoru wasn’t eager either.
Time seemed to stand still around you, wrapping you in a cocoon, where only two of you existed. Not an unusual occurrence, though this time it was charged with something heavy and intimate.
You didn’t know how long you both stayed like this until Satoru suddenly stepped a little closer. His grip on your face tightened just a fraction, his lips parted as he was about to say something. He hesitated, just for a second, but this moment was enough to shatter your bubble — an annoying sound of your ringtone cut through the strange silence.
"I have to answer this," you coughed and nodded at your phone. He dragged his gaze from your lips to your face and stepped back.
"Of course. Sorry."
You couldn’t be more glad to hear your Mom’s exciting voice than right this second. And as you turned away to answer, you didn’t notice a strange kind of longing that flicked in Satoru’s gaze.
***
The ride to your house was less uncomfortable than you expected. Mostly, both of you kept silent, safe for a couple of his jokes that earned a dry chuckle from you.
You kept your famous cherry pie on your lap and cast a glance at the rearview mirror to again notice a couple of bouquets in the backseat.
Satoru really went all out, huh?
You passed silhouettes of tall trees, all blurred in motion, but your treacherous heart kept replying that…whatever it was in your room between you and Satoru.
You always took pride in being a rational person. You liked it when things were structured, and everything went in accordance with the rules your life had set long ago. It was simple. Better in some ways. Almost predictable. Some may call it boring, but you cherished the stability and comfort of your life.
Sometimes, of course, your organized and structured system bugged, which was only natural, and resulted in your whimsical impulsive decision to ask your best friend to be your fake boyfriend, him almost kissing you and now sitting in the uncomfortable awkward silence of the car ride to your home to the dinner, where your presumable love life would be put under a microscope.
The system, or rather the matrix, bugged in other ways as well. Safe for the incident earlier, you started to notice the way Satoru's gaze would linger on you more often than needed. Sometimes it was dreamy and soft blue, like a spring sky in the morning. Other days, his gaze sharpened and studied you as if you were another hypothesis he desperately needed to prove.
Either way, it didn't feel friendly at all. And now this, on top of everything?
It bothered you. Settled in the back of your mind and whispered endless what if's and could have been's, until you doubted what you and Satoru had actually become. You shouldn’t even have suggested this stupid idea in the first place. You still had time to fake a sudden injury, or actually get injured and—
You took a deep breath. That certainly wasn’t a choice. Besides, you didn’t want to cause even more trouble for Satoru: he already went through the roof with preparations, not to mention was kind (or stupid) enough to put up with you. So, you stayed glued to the seat.
You looked away and decided to focus your attention on the pie you spent the whole evening before yesterday's shift. Cherries weren't exactly your kind of thing, but Satoru always gobbled that pie up like there was no tomorrow.
You closed your eyes in annoyance. Why did all the thoughts keep drifting to him?
Eventually, the car stopped in front of a neat townhouse. You didn't even get to look at it to know smoke was already flaring up its way in the sky, a small wicket gate leading inside a yard was still a little bit crooked, no matter how many times your Dad tried to fix it, and bushes of chrysanthemums, your mother's pride and joy, adorned the fence.
"Home, sweet home," you murmured under your breath. Usually, a sight of home would fill you with warmth and a hint of nostalgia, but not today.
Satoru didn't hear you. He spun a wheel with one hand and looked over his shoulder to park the car safely.
You side-eyed him quickly and held the poor cherry pie tighter. Satoru drove you countless times, but you never happened to notice that he looked kind of…attractive behind the wheel.
Then, as if you weren’t already in an existential crisis over thinking about your best friend, he rounded the car and opened your door. You thought he would offer his hand; instead, he just kept looking down at you. Satoru nervously pushed his square glasses on, but when he spoke, his voice sounded low and steady.
"We don't have to do any of it if you don't want to."
The muscle in his jaw jumped, and he curled his fingers a little tighter on the car door than needed. He nodded at the house behind him.
"I mean it. We— you don't have to do any of this. Not pretending to date me, not sitting at the dinner and surely not listening to all the crap your family's saying." You were caught off guard at the firmness in his tone, but this sudden certainty made your heart feel too small in your chest.
"If you want to, I can walk there and tell them you're sick and coughing back at home. A virus. A plague!" He stumbled over his words, and a little grin appeared at the corner of your lips. His enthusiasm even heightened, "or that you got motion sickness! Anything! Just—"
Satoru cut himself off abruptly and looked around desperately, like the sight of your house could give him all the answers in the world. He exhaled harshly, and as he turned to face you again, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were full of fragile tenderness, so soft you could miss it by blinking. And when he spoke, his voice carried a gentle edge.
"I don't want you to feel bad."
Your heart jumped in your chest and raced even faster than before. Mindlessly, you chewed on your bottom lip and then whispered hoarsely. Satoru's gaze briefly flicked to your mouth.
"I am good, Satoru. I have you, don't I?"
The heaviness that seemed to clench your heart suddenly released its hold when the frown between his brows disappeared, and he gave you a small smile in response.
"Always," he murmured, and that fragile bubble around you broke with a loud bark at your house yard, shooshing and slamming of the widget gate.
You allowed yourself one last moment of being alone before finally meeting your family. And as your Mom almost crushed Satoru in her hugs, you couldn't help but think that his "always" earlier sounded like he was referencing not just this family dinner.
***
The weight of Satoru's hand on your back felt strangely pleasant. At first, the pads of his fingers hesitantly brushed your waist, as if asking whether it was okay to touch you, but when he met no further resistance, his palm settled there like it was exactly where it belonged. You didn't even want to shake it off, which was another strange coincidence.
A lot of them happened that evening (that caught you by surprise, despite both of you developing "fake dating ethics code" earlier. Satoru came up with the name), that should have a little nagging voice at the back of your mind raise its head in worry and suspicion. But today you decided to let your overthinking go.
For example, both of you (okay, maybe Satoru did) didn't expect your family to have almost a unanimous reaction to your so-called dating.
"Took you long enough," your Dad mumbled under his breath and winked at Satoru. The tips of his ears went from usual pale to slightly pink. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. What the hell?!
"Oh my god, no way! I certainly thought you had something happening!" Your Mom gasped and clapped her hands together in joy, "after a graduation party at middle school, remember? When a boy who asked you out said he was apparently busy...."
"Mom!" The heat spread to your cheeks at the mere mention, and you groaned in embarrassment. Satoru gave you a side eye and leaned in to whisper in a cheeky tone.
"I remember it all right."
You elbowed his side. Satoru pretended to be mortally wounded.
"Is this any way to treat your boyfriend? After all I've done for you?"
“You are enjoying it too much,” you grumbled and crossed your arms. Satoru’s lips curled up in amusement. You wanted to punch him once again.
"... Honestly, seeing my baby crying over this Sparks boy made me want to walk there and give him a good ol’ earful!" Your mom continued and squeezed your shoulder in support. Your smile turned a bit strained after this, and you walked away to a nearby table for a glass of champagne. Satoru glanced at you once again.
"But then you wouldn't believe what happened!"
"Oh, we do know,” Aunt Marie chirped gleefully, already tipsy after your Dad's famous punch.
"Satoru-kun suddenly appeared at our door, all dressed up like the little gentleman he was!" She waved at the framed photo of you and Satoru at the said middle school graduation party, settling on the fireplace's shelf. Satoru's tuxedo was a little ill-fitted, his usual square glasses were on, and although his smile looked a bit awkward, it was so wide, you could feel the joy radiating from the photo even now.
"You look so cute here."
Satoru's voice pulled you out of the sudden nostalgic thoughts, and you gave him a crooked grin.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
He walked to the fireplace and took the photo, his thumb softly caressing your face as his voice carried a sweet nostalgic tone, tinted with a slight melancholy.
"Your Mom's not the only one who remembers the entire thing. I do too."
Your fingers curled around another glass of champagne absent-mindedly, when he continued reminiscing.
"You sounded so distressed over the phone. Crying and sobbing about that piece of shit," Satoru's voice lost the usual softness that came when he was talking to you. He sounded genuinely pissed off, and you stared at him, unblinking. Your heart did a strange thing in your chest.
You took another gulp and looked around. Everyone was either talking, drinking, or playing board games. Either way, you both were completely alone, maybe for the first time this evening.
"I just...," Satoru stopped and closed his eyes. You noticed his Adam's apple bobble with a visible effort. Then he stared at you with a gaze so sharp, it made you feel like a startled butterfly under a pin.
"I realized that I didn't want you to cry or get hurt, not that moment, not ever. And if I could—" Satoru’s voice suddenly fell to a whisper, as if he was scared of its firmness. His eyes scanned your face, desperately searching for an answer that never came. "Especially if only I could, I would do anything to bring a smile to your face."
You exhaled sharply. Your fingers twitched, almost dropping the damn glass, but Satoru quickly took it and put it on the table. You noticed his hand trembled a little as well, and the treacherous red crept up his neck.
The alcohol in your veins seemed to take the reins over, and paired with the constant overthinking about your feelings, his feelings, the pressure of your family, this stupid dinner that sometimes left you with a feeling you were no more than a show dog, you blurted out.
"As a friend, right? Only as a friend? Is there no way for you to look at me somehow other than this?"
A flicker of confusion crossed Satoru’s face, and he desperately shook his head.
"Yes!" Your face genuinely fell in an instant, and he immediately corrected himself, "I mean no! You're my friend, the best I've ever had! And I would never dare to—" He nervously ran fingers through his hair and stepped closer. You swore you had never seen the blue of his eyes so vibrant. You wanted to urge him to continue, but the words suddenly stuck in your mouth.
The room suddenly felt too small. Too bright. Too loud. You desperately needed to get out of this place. Just somewhere else. Away from anyone. It was too much and too sudden.
"Sweetheart, time for a dessert!" Your Mom's voice cut through the tension between you and Satoru. The sounds suddenly hit you with full force, returning to the reality of a crammed living room. Satoru looked like he would rather have the ground swallow him whole.
You decided gobbling something sweet would be a welcome distraction after everything that was happening between you and Satoru, but your family had other plans.
You dug into your cherry pie as if it personally offended your entire bloodline, when in reality, it was just you who had come up with the most stupid idea in the world of fake dating your best friend.
What on earth were you thinking?!
Moreover, what was he thinking? Couldn't he talk you out of this stupidity?
After a couple of bites, you bitterly remembered that he, in fact, tried.
You certainly were the dumbest person in the world.
"So," your Dad coughed a little bit awkwardly, after your Mom gave him a pointed look. You groaned internally; you knew where it was heading.
"You and Satoru-kun together is...a major thing." If your mom could, she would've burnt a hole through your Dad's skull. A little grin tugged at your lips, and you discreetly glanced at Satoru, only to meet his curious gaze as well. You looked away immediately.
"We're curious how you...you know," your Dad gestured vaguely, like that was supposed to explain everything. It was getting even more hilarious, for you knew how he hated all this kind of mushy talk, so you were sure it was your Mom's idea. You decided not to prolong his suffering.
"How did we become a couple?"
"Yes! Yeah, yeah, that's what I mean," your Dad exclaimed a little bit louder than needed, earning a wave of chuckles from other guests and an annoyed look from your Mom. You laughed as well and opened your mouth to tell a lie you and Satoru had already prepared for that case, when his hand gently touched yours under the table. He lightly squeezed it, as if saying: "Don't worry. I'll handle this". You cast a brief glance at his profile and nodded.
Your hand remained in his.
"Well, I can't say it was some kind of a grand revelation," he said with a chuckle, and you stared at your plate, like its patterns were the most fascinating thing in the world, with bated breath. "But...," Satoru glanced at you and squeezed your hand tighter. "I think everything was leading to the very moment I realized I liked her."
You slowly turned to face him, only to catch him staring back at you. Something akin to an unfamiliar kind of longing flashed in his eyes before disappearing behind a usual friendliness. It was so gentle and tender, you thought you might've actually imagined it. You quickly glanced back at your family and gave them an unsure smile in the hope they would mistake it for a lovey-dovey grin. Your hands turned clammy, and you let go of Satoru’s hand. He didn’t say anything.
As promised, Satoru did all the talking. You were grateful for this, since you were too nervous to properly react or recall the details of your non-existent dates. From time to time, you chimed in when it was necessary, but apart from this, you tried to untangle the messy chaos that your thoughts currently resembled.
You recalled the way his fingers tentatively touched yours, stolen shy glances, when he thought you didn't look. The way his smile would soften and his voice carry the sweet gentle tone, that totally hadn't been there before. The way the tips of his ears would dust with pink when you accidentally brushed against his shoulder or knee. The way he would beam at you when you actually listened to his usual mumbling about black holes. The way he would often get late to the lectures, or the lab, or the library, just because you were bored, or needed his point of view on your fresh essay. Or when you simply craved him being around, for his absence had long become unbearable to you.
"Oh God," you whispered, your voice laced with desperation that could only occur in a situation like this. You could hear blood pounding in your ears.
Swallowing, you looked around the table, ready to meet the concerned gazes of your family, but, to your surprise, no one paid attention to you. Instead, a shy chuckle by your side brought you out of your maze of thoughts. You stared at Satoru's profile, when he laughed at your Dad's joke, his shoulders shook, and a warm smile curled on his lips. He pushed the glasses up his nose in a usual manner and briefly glanced at you. A slight frown appeared on his face as he took in your confused expression. Of course, he noticed, you thought.
"Are you okay? You look a little bit flushed," Satoru leaned in, and his tender tone soothed you way more than you wanted to admit. "We can go outside for a moment. Everyone's so busy with themselves, no one would ever notice."
Going outside.
Just with him. Two of you. Not the best idea, considering that you had already started to rethink your whole relationship from the moment you guilt-tripped him into sharing a beer in middle school. What if you missed any more clues?
“I am okay, Toru," you answered with a bit of a strained smile, and his frown deepened. You groaned inwardly. Could he be any less attentive to you?
You braced yourself for another round of a quiz, but it never came. Instead, he just nodded and dug into your cherry pie.
"You know, sweetie, that boy is a keeper," your Grandma would mutter to you with a knowing grin after that damned dinner was finally over. You stayed at your Grandma's side, since your Mom strictly prohibited you from helping in the kitchen. "You and Satoru-kun are our darling guests today!" She insisted. Satoru, in fact, was listening to your Granddad's mumblings and helped him to solve a scanword. From the other side of the living room, fancily dressed vultures (your aunties) almost burnt a hole in him, so his choice was pretty much obvious. He must've felt you staring across the room and looked up to meet your gaze. Immediately, his lips curled in a shy grin, and he waved to you before your Grandad asked something, and he turned his attention back to the scanword. You waved back and looked curiously at her.
"You think so, Grandma?"
"Of course," she muttered and leaned back in a rocking chair. You gave her a disapproving glance as she reached for another glass of champagne.
"You shouldn't drink that, Grandma."
Your words fell on deaf ears, and you decided to check what was going on in the kitchen when your Grandma suddenly cracked one eye open, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Your Granddad and I have been waiting all this time for you to finally get together."
You slowly stopped in your tracks and stared at your Grandma. Her words rang in your head. Speechless, you looked around to see whether someone else heard this ridiculous conversation of yours, only to notice Satoru was now flipping through the pages of your childhood photos and nodding to Granddad’s stories. You already sensed the impending jokes and the inevitable urge to smack his stupid head, but now it wasn't the time. Your Grandma kept sipping on her drink like she hadn't just dropped an entire bomb on her granddaughter.
"What do you mean you both had been waiting? Are you serious?"
She cracked one eye open only to see utter shock written on your face and reached to pat your hand in a way only grandmothers could. Her face softened at your reaction, and she pinched your cheek affectionately. You grumbled as if you were a kid all over again.
"Oh, honey. I am joking. I mean, this boy has been crushing on you for years, since middle school. Or even earlier. Grandma's not revealing all her secrets".
"I see the way you look at him, sweetheart. Like he's something worth keeping. When you two look at each other, I recall the way your Grandad and I used to look like," her tone took a reminiscing edge. "Young love is so precious and fragile, it's so easy to break. But I know you can handle it, honey."
A mix of confusion and embarrassment flooded your cheeks, and you fidgeted with your sweaty palms. To hear confirmation of your thoughts from another person...was something else entirely.
You forced a weak smile. Everything fell into place, and you couldn't deny the obvious anymore.
Satoru was in love with you.
And you, probably, were in love with him.
Very probably.
Honestly, all you wanted at that moment was to get somewhere alone, preferably a place with a bed, get under a soft blanket and pierce everything together. However, you weren't granted this opportunity, since after the evening was over, you and Satoru ended up in your childhood room. Another perfect inconvenience to your fraud.
Well, the place with the bed? Check. The soft blanket? Check. Alone?
Unfortunately, not.
"I can sleep on the floor. No big deal," Satoru shrugged casually, staying in your room. He saw it hundreds of times, but something in the air suggested this time would be entirely different.
You scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous.”
The various moments of your life were tenderly preserved in that bedroom: your posters were still hung on the walls, even with various kiss marks on the faces of your favourites singers (a sign of some good ol' girl's night over); books, that you used to reread from cover to cover, neatly put on the shelves alongside the various school trophies; a bunch of postcards from penfriends that had grown up long ago. Another framed photo of you and Satoru, and his high school graduation. It seemed like his presence lingered in every aspect of your life, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Steady. Certain. Reliable.
You were about to slide into an old worn t-shirt, when suddenly you remembered that you weren't alone.
"Look away," you grumbled and threw a quick glance over your shoulder. Satoru blinked in surprise.
"What, why?"
You gave him a pointed look, and he finally turned to face the door, rolling his eyes.
"And take your glasses off."
A beat of silence passed between you before he actually did it with a quiet scoff.
"You know I am blind as a bat without them, right?"
You decided to ignore it.
Honestly, you dressed in front of each other a million times. You were well aware that you acted totally awkward and suspicious (at least as it seemed to you), but come on, allow a moment of weakness to the girl who had just recently realized her best friend acted so much more than this.
When it was Satoru's turn to change, you couldn't help but sneak a little peek. His suit jacket had already been somewhere discarded, and when he started to undo his dress shirt, you quickly looked away. You clearly underestimated your composure.
After a while, you heard Satoru's quiet cough and turned to face him. He glanced at you with puppy eyes and nervously rubbed the back of his neck, already apologetic for breathing and existing in your proximity.
Could it be any more awkward?
"If this is really uncomfortable, I really can sleep on the floor."
"Satoru, come on," you closed your eyes, too exhausted from the evening. Dealing with your best friend's embarrassment was the last thing on your list. "Just get in."
"Right. Sorry."
He took a deep breath, as if he was ready to jump from a rock into a freezing ocean. A mattress shifted beneath his weight, and, inevitably, the bitch the gravitational force was, pulled you together. You ended up facing his front. To be precise, right his chest.
Heat flooded your body embarrassingly fast.
"I am sorry," you mumbled awkwardly, stumbling over words, and chuckled nervously. "The bed is kinda small."
You could feel Satoru go still for a good moment, his muscles tensed before he forced himself to relax. His breath fanned over your temple as he murmured.
"It's okay."
Neither of you moved, obviously. You were too afraid to look up and even more scared to move away to your side of the bed, which, to be fair, couldn't be called your "side" of the bed due to its size. So you decided to opt for the best option.
Satoru's chest was surprisingly firm. The pleasant scent of his cologne brought you familiarity and comfort; the steady rise and fall of his chest slowly yet surely lulled you to sleep. Just a little bit forward, and you could nuzzle into it with content. You almost caught yourself doing it, when suddenly his fingers traced an unsure path up your arm and stopped to lightly tug at the t-shirt's short sleeve.
"You look nice in this."
A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you looked up with a quiet chuckle. Moonlight hesitantly spilled through curtains and painted Satoru's face in pale hues, giving him an otherworldly look. His white messy fringe fell over his forehead, and you reached to unsurely brush it away. A gesture too soft, too intimate, especially in the shared silence of your bedroom.
Unconsciously, you moved a bit closer to his warmth, unaware of the way his breath hitched slightly. Cerulean in his eyes flashed even brighter, and that gave you some strange kind of boldness. You felt eerily calm, despite the sudden clamminess of your hands.
That was Satoru, after all. Your Satoru.
"Thank you for coming with me today," hardly had you finished this sentence, when Satoru breathed out with a quick grin.
"Anytime.”
"You didn't have to do this, yet you did. Drove me all the way there, helped to deal with my precious family. I am sure they are really convinced we are dating."
The quick grin morphed into a full soft smile, so warm, kind, and undeniably him, that it made you realize with firm certainty you would do anything to see this smile every day.
"Can't help it. I am way too charming, you know what."
"Oh yeah. They love you a little bit too much."
"Hey now,” Satoru drawled with a pout, though mischief danced in his eyes. He shifted closer as well, and now you both were so close you could count his eyelashes. "Not my fault I am so irresistible. And good at telling random scientific facts. And solving scanwords."
You snorted at the last words. "The real hero."
Satoru's shoulders dropped and raised in a casual shrug before he lifted his hand to gently trace your cheekbone with his thumb and whispered. "If it makes you my princess.”
You didn't say anything for a good minute, or maybe it was a small eternity just between you. The air in the room shifted to something heavy with meaning, thick and viscous, dripping with untold confessions. You suddenly recalled your conversation in the living room, when he almost said the words you unconsciously craved to hear for a long time. Almost.
You both went hand in hand with that treacherous strange almost. Almost soulmates, almost lovers, dancing around the strange invisible line that would turn almost into certainly, but never crossing it.
Your heart suddenly felt too small for your body, and you shifted once again, until there was no space between your bodies, and you literally were nose to nose. A clock on the wall ticked too loudly for your liking. Your socks dug into your ankles a little bit too tightly. Headlights from cars passing by your house were too bright and—
"I am in love with you, Satoru."
You blurted out before you actually could overthink this moment, like you used to do with a lot of things in your life, but this evening showed you that life had a strange yet very pleasant tendency to not follow any rules, despite all your diligence.
You stared at Satoru. Stared. Stared. And stared.
The silence stretched too thin between you. The wind that howled outside sounded especially mournful.
Your heart jumped into your throat, as well as a thousand unwelcome, cruel and indifferent "Was I wrong? Did I imagine all of this stuff? Oh my God. Now he would stay away from me as much as possible. I am so fucking stupid" plagued your tired mind.
You almost prepared a “dropping-out-of-the-university-moving-to-another-side-of-the-world” plan, when Satoru's lips found yours in the dark and captured them in a kiss.
A surprised sound, followed by a gasp, escaped you. He kissed you slowly, as if he was savouring every moment, but when you reiterated, it instantly grew more intense. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head to deepen the kiss, and unconsciously you melted into his touch, warm, steady and oh so gentle, like you were made of the finest glass.
You let out a strangled noise when his palm dug into the small of your back, and in one second ,you were rolled over, without breaking the kiss. Your hands slid up his arms and clawed into his shoulders for purchase to bring him closer. His fingers ran down your body, leaving a path of fire, before settling on your waist, no hesitation in the touch, as if he was finally freed from the confines of friendship.
You didn’t expect his touch to feel like this, as though you were burning. No man made you breathless, flushed and gasping for air. Nerdy introverts, huh?..
Satoru’s lips left your mouth, and he rested his forehead on yours, panting as if he had just run a marathon. He looked like a wrecked mess; you weren’t better in any way.
“You won’t believe how long I waited for these words,” he rasped out and opened his eyes. The usual soft bright blue of his gaze gave in to something more intense and dark. You weren't sure you had ever seen him like this.
His large palms came to cradle your face and caress your cheekbones softly.
"I love you too, sweetheart. In case you didn't understand it. I am sorry it took me too long to actually say it aloud," Satoru’s voice wavered slightly as he brushed a hair strand behind your ear. “I wanted to say it for so long, but there was always something that stopped me.” His voice fell to a desperate whisper, and you held your breath.
“You were either dating someone or just weren't in the right place. I didn’t dare to interfere.” His eyes flashed with a soft kind of yearning. “But mostly I was just…scared. Didn’t want to ruin…us. You know, when two best friends suddenly stop talking and…” his gaze held you captive, and he muttered the next words as if they caused him pain, “...lose each other.”
Your face softened at his words, and you cradled his hand that still cupped your face. He could solve complex equations in his sleep, had relativistic books like a light reading at breakfast, never missed the opportunity to correct professors at their mistakes — a boy with the most brilliant mind you had ever met — hesitated to tell you about his actual feelings.
Instead, you just said like it was the most obvious and resolute truth of this world.
"You could never lose me. Not now, not ever, Satoru."
His eyes widened for a second, like he couldn’t actually believe your words, but after a couple of moments, he smiled at you. So bright and so warm, with no restraint, that you felt the sun might’ve risen too early.
He dipped his head down and whispered against your lips, “I love you.” Then he kissed the corner of your mouth.
“I love you.”
Your chin, your cheek, your forehead, and even your eyelids had his attention. Each soft press of his lips was adorned with “I love you.”
You breathe them back countless times that time, as much as you both needed to hear.
You still had a lot of talk to be done, mess to untangle, problems to solve.
But now, as you watched the warm sunlight dance across his face, highlighting the peaks of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his mouth and the sharp line of his jaw, you were sure of one thing.
Sometimes ruining the friendship is only for the good.