Work Text:
Tamayo was basking on the couch nursing a warm cup of tea. A how-to book rested next to her on a pillow while the TV was on Self Sufficient Me, a YouTube channel about gardening.
Sunlight dipped through the blinds onto the wooden table in the living room. A cool breeze came through, making her sigh in contentment. It was a slow Saturday morning, almost ten AM.
Tamayo had weekends off.
It was in her job description as Kimetsu Academy’s nurse. The thirty-year-old was still learning to relax and fully unwind. Having always been busy, chasing perfection and endless achievements had gotten her nowhere.
Yushiro, her husband, taught her to give herself grace when needed.
He may be younger by four years, but his wisdom and compassion surpassed those of men she had met her own age.
Tamayo felt a familiar stare on her face.
She knew lovely a pair of lavender eyes were drawing the details of her form without a canvas and smiled.
“Yushiro?”
“Tamayo,” he hummed, sounding eager to serve, and her heart melted at the devotion. “What can I do for you, my lady?”
“You’re too far,” she placed the book on the table and moved the cushion beside her. “Come closer.”
Yushiro didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing his own beverage, he stepped forward and filled the empty space beside her. When his wife rested her head on his shoulder, his heart leapt in his chest.
They'd been married for two years, but the young man was still in awe of his precious Lady Tamayo.
She still took his breath away as if it were the first time he saw her.
Her onyx colored hair was damp, and pushed was back in a bun. A few stray curls hung on her sides. Tamayo's violet orbs gleamed under the light, and Yushiro was taken.
Had been since they met.
Tamayo looked as elegant as ever. The dark floral kimono dress draped perfectly around her frame. Her porcelain skin was clear and as soft as it looked.
Yushiro wrote poetry about her—published books about how love transformed him. The twenty-six-year-old had countless paintings he made of her, over the years. Yushiro made a name for himself in the artistry world, and his bestselling pieces were inspired by her.
His Lady Tamayo was art in human form.
One of God’s creations.
Effortlessly beautiful.
Tamayo was the one his heart loved.
“Yushiro, you're staring again,” she said, raising an amused brow. With grin on her pink lips, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Drink your tea, beloved; it'll get cold.”
He obeyed, only taking his eyes off her to lift the cup to his mouth.
Feeling a wave of affection wash over him, Yushiro couldn't stop the words from spilling, “You're altogether beautiful, my darling; there's no flaw in you.”
“You say the sweetest things,” she said, wrapping an arm around him, leaning even deeper on him. “My beloved is mine, and I am his.”
He blinked at her and filled the gap between them for another kiss—longer but still soft and tender. “I love you.”
“I love you more, ‘Shiro,” Tamayo beamed. A giggle slipped past her lips, but she wasn't flustered by it as she had been in the past. “You make me so happy.”
Thank God.
“My Tuna Mayo,” Yushiro mused playfully. That earned a swat on his chest and and glare from his wife. “My apologies, dearest,” he chuckled, he wasn't sorry at all.
He was teasing.
He loved how annyoned she got when he called her Mayo.
It was cute.
“You know I hate it when you call me that,” she pushed off him to settle in another position. “I am not a sauce.”
You are tasty though, Yushiro bit back the thought. Not now, that was uncalled for.
“How's your garden looking? Not the herbs, your flowers I mean,” he asked curiously, eyeing the book she read earlier. “How's the progress so far?”
“I'm glad you asked,” Tamayo lit up, fully energized as she talked about her gardening endeavours. She slapped his shoulder enthusiastically. “You will not believe it! My camellias are growing wonderfully.”
So are you.
Yoshiro couldn't help but capture every moment with her in his heart.
“-shiro? Yushiro!” Tamayo's cheeks puffed up as she blew out a huff. “You're zoning out again.”
His wife could be very cute.
She was his.
“I was listening! You know I know the sound of your voice.”
“Thats not the same as listening, what was I saying?”
Yushiro did not know.
