Giyuu stood at the edge of the room, his gaze fixed on the cherry blossom tree swaying gently in the breeze outside. Sanemi, his back rigid with tension, paced back and forth, the anger radiating off him palpable.
"What's wrong with you?" Sanemi finally snapped, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "You're always so damn stoic, never showing any emotion. Do you even care about this marriage?"
Giyuu's expression remained impassive as he turned to face Sanemi. "Of course, I care," he replied quietly, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. "But I express my emotions differently."
Sanemi scoffed, his fists clenched at his sides. "Different? More like nonexistent. How am I supposed to understand you if you never let me in?"
A flicker of emotion crossed Giyuu's face, so fleeting that Sanemi almost missed it. "I've never been good at expressing myself," Giyuu admitted, his tone tinged with vulnerability. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel anything. I care about you, Sanemi, more than you'll ever know."
Sanemi's anger wavered, replaced by a sudden surge of confusion. "You... you do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Giyuu nodded, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to Sanemi. "Yes, I do. And I know we have our differences, but I believe we can make this work. Together."
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the rustling of leaves outside. Then, without a word, Sanemi closed the distance between them, pulling Giyuu into a fierce embrace.
"I may not understand you completely," Sanemi murmured against Giyuu's ear, "but I'm willing to try. For us."
And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together. For Giyuu and Sanemi, love wasn't about grand gestures or extravagant displays—it was about the quiet moments, the shared understanding, and the unspoken bond that held them together, even in the darkest of times
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332 words bc Merins not here
