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She, was the gleam of hope in the dark hall that was his lonely life. Shards of angsty light dispelled and distorted, yet still present—present long enough for Satoru to reach out to her.
When the white haired sorcerer invited (Y/n) as his date to the annual dinner parties, he never intended to tell her of the many other women who could've happily taken the spot for her. Despite this, it was clear that (Y/n) was the perfect fit. He was just so sure of it, even if he hadn't know the feisty lady for a long time.
"I've always been hesitant to this occasion..." He lied, looking into her glistening eyes, checking for uncertainty in them as his words sat flat and unwavering from the white lie.
(Y/n) took the bait with little to no thought, Sakura petals swarming about behind her on the pavement. He remembered watching her cute features twist at the unwrapped surprises that were his coaxing words. "...the rule is you have to bring a date."
He would never forget.
That little kimono, so fitting for a person like her. A beautiful juxtaposition to her sharp, guarded words. Honey and sakura invited him into her home, a small yet kind smile blossoming upon (Y/n)'s lips, and if that wasn't enough conformation for Satoru, his breath hitching was the harbinger.
Although the event seemed like yesterday's mysteries, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling that remained when she had gone—the excitement of a summer's night, the nervousness of Valentines Day...the quiet satisfaction of the first time—all compiled into this woman.
It was only weeks later that he verbally admitted to this sweet addiction—the addiction that was her everything, kindly yet alluringly killing him softly.
"In that moment..." His finger glided over the edge of the glass, his lime-green concoction half full whilst a maroon drink from a bartender was slid over to Nanami, the music of deep R&B blasting overhead.
