𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐧 X Reader (Dark/Angst)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ✶ 𝟎𝟒

Before long, the rhythmic clatter of plates and murmured conversations at the café is interrupted by the soft, almost chipper voice of the waitress. She approaches the table with a professional smile, the fabric of her apron rustling faintly as she stands beside you.

"What can I get for you?" she asks brightly, her eyes flicking between you and Ritsu with practiced ease. It's a simple, innocent question, but it lands like a jarring note in the atmosphere that had grown taut between you and Ritsu, strung tight with his quiet, anxious energy.

Ritsu flinches. His entire body jerks with a start, almost as if he's been shocked out of a daydream. You feel, more than see, the way he inches closer to you on instinct, his movements tentative and twitchy. His fingers, still nervously toying with the worn cuff of his jacket, pause for a brief moment before starting up again, picking at the edges of the frayed fabric like it's the only thing grounding him in this moment. You can almost hear his heart thudding in his chest, pounding away like a frantic drum.

He doesn't respond immediately. His wide, nervous eyes dart up to the waitress, then down to the menu in his hands, and you can see the way he bites his lip in hesitation. It's almost painful to watch him try to compose himself, as if the simple act of ordering a meal is a monumental task. His eyes skim over the list of options in front of him, moving too quickly for him to be truly reading anything.

You watch him struggle, and you can't help but feel a twisted sort of satisfaction. Of course he's this anxious. Of course he's afraid of doing something wrong. Everything about him screams fragility, uncertainty. And it's in these moments—when he's teetering on the edge of some silent panic—that you see just how much he needs you. How utterly dependent he is on your guidance.

You lean in just slightly, enough to catch his eye. "You wanna go first, Ritsu?" you ask, your tone deliberately soft, coaxing. The question is gentle, but there's an underlying firmness to it, a subtle reminder that you're in control here. You want to see what he'll do when you hand him this tiny sliver of power. Will he take it, or will he crumble under the weight of it?

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, the movement of his Adam's apple sharp and pronounced. He glances up at you for the briefest of moments—searching your face for some kind of approval, some sign that he's doing the right thing—before quickly looking away again. His eyes drop back down to the menu, but you can tell he isn't really seeing it. His hand, trembling ever so slightly, lifts to point at the cheapest, smallest meal listed on the page.

"Th-this, please," he stammers, barely able to get the words out. His voice is so quiet that it almost gets lost in the ambient noise of the café, but the strain in his tone is unmistakable. He's practically begging for this to be over, his posture rigid, his body tense with the weight of making a decision.

You sigh internally. Of course he'd pick that. It's so typical of him, always so concerned with being a burden, with not taking up too much space, with not costing you too much. He's always trying to minimize himself, to make himself smaller. But that's exactly why you're here. To show him that he doesn't have to make decisions. That he can—no, should—rely on you. That his value comes from your care, your direction.

Without missing a beat, you reach for your own menu, your hand moving with a confident grace as you catch the waitress's eye. "Sorry," you interject smoothly, cutting off whatever confirmation she was about to give to Ritsu's sad little choice. "Let me correct that. We'll both have the chicken and dumplings with two sides." You flash a quick smile, effortlessly commandeering the situation as you point to a far more substantial option. "And for dessert, I'll have the chocolate cake, and he'll have the strawberry."

The waitress jots down the order with a nod, not even batting an eye at the sudden change. She probably doesn't care who makes the decisions at this table, as long as they're made. Within moments, she's gone, leaving you and Ritsu alone once more in the lingering tension.