My prince—my very, very foul-mouthed prince—finally calmed down after that kiss. The lingering adrenaline from the fight, the possessive anger, it all just melted away under my touch. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing, and rested his forehead against mine. The chaos of the street, the whispers of the onlookers, it all faded into a low, insignificant hum. The only thing that was real was the soft warmth of his lips and the steady, solid presence of him holding me.
Our first priority, after a crisis of that magnitude, was obviously food. We found a small, charming restaurant tucked away in a side alley, an Osakana Shokudo that smelled wonderfully of grilled fish and soy sauce. We ordered the Atami special—a beautiful set meal with glistening sashimi, a whole grilled horse mackerel, and a steaming bowl of clam soup. It was the kind of simple, perfect meal that tasted like home.
After we stepped back out into the bright afternoon sun, my stomach full and my heart even fuller, I took his hand, a smug little smile playing on my lips.
"Alright, next stop…" I declared, my voice full of purpose. "Parfait!"
A low chuckle rumbled in Jun's chest. "Of course," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "So predictable."
"Hey! What's wrong with being predictable?" I pouted, giving his hand a light squeeze.
It was our ritual. It was always our ritual. Our small seaside town was wonderful, but its dessert options were tragically limited to fish-shaped cakes and dried squid snacks. A proper date, a real trip to Atami, always, always ended with a towering, beautiful parfait. And it had been two years… two whole years since I'd had one with him. The thought made a familiar ache bloom in my chest, but this time it was sweet, not bitter.
"I can't complain," Jun admitted, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of my hand. "I love parfait, too." He paused, his hand leaving mine to gently play with a loose strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His voice dropped to that low, serious murmur that always made my heart skip a beat. "But moreover… I love watching my girlfriend eat it."
The heat rushed to my cheeks so fast it made me dizzy. "You… you womanizer!"
It was the only defense I had. The only way to hide the ridiculously huge, happy smile that was threatening to split my face in two.
*
"Say 'ahhh'."
A spoon, a perfect, beautiful construction of vanilla ice cream, a chunk of ripe strawberry, a piece of crunchy cookie, and a dollop of whipped cream, was hovering an inch from my mouth. It was my favorite combination, a fact he had somehow remembered from a lifetime ago.
I surrendered without a fight, opening my mouth and letting him feed me the ridiculously sweet bite. It melted on my tongue, a wave of pure, unadulterated happiness.
I swallowed, the sweetness lingering. "Stop feeding me already, Jun!" I managed, trying to sound annoyed. Please keep going, my inner voice, that shameless traitor, immediately added.
He just let out a light laugh, completely ignoring my protest as he expertly assembled the next spoonful. I could feel the gazes of the other customers in the small, sunlit café. A few high school girls at a nearby table were whispering behind their hands, their eyes wide with envy.
That's right, I wanted to scream, my heart puffing up with a fierce, possessive pride. This is my boyfriend. My wonderful, handsome, my to-be husband, and he is completely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with me.
Jun set the spoon down for a moment, his playful expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll do better next time."
The sudden shift in tone caught me off guard. "Eh?"
"You know," he said, looking down at the half-eaten parfait as if the answer was written in the melting ice cream. "Our first real date in a while… and all the commotion. The train, those guys… I'm sorry it was so chaotic."
"Oh, that?" I waved a dismissive hand. The memory of his furious, protective face was a warm, thrilling secret in my chest. "That didn't bother me at all."
He looked up from the parfait, his rich brown eyes meeting mine. "I know you'd say that." A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face, a smile that held all the weight of our shared history, of the two years of silence, and of this new, brilliant beginning. "You're the most wonderful person I've ever known, Yui. I'm so glad that you're my bride."
He picked up the spoon again, loading it with another perfect bite. He held it out to me, his smile unwavering, his gaze so full of love it felt like a physical touch.
"Here," he murmured. "For the most important person in my life. Ahhh."
And that was it. That was the final blow. My carefully constructed composure, the one I'd managed to hold onto through public humiliation and street fights, just… shattered. A hot, overwhelming wave of emotion washed over me, and my vision blurred.
No, no, I can't cry here. You can't just say things like that, you idiot. Not now. Not after everything. Of course it will make me cry.
"Yui…?" Jun's smile faltered, replaced by a wave of pure, frantic panic. "Ahh! What kind of boyfriend am I? I made my girl cry twice on one date!"
He set the spoon down with a clatter, grabbing a napkin and scrambling from his seat to slide into the booth next to me.
"I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'm so sorry," he whispered, his hands fluttering around my face as he tried to gently wipe away the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks. "Let me make it up to you, okay?"
No, that's not it, Jun. It's not your fault. The words were trapped in my throat. Ahh, why won't the tears stop? And why won't my mouth move?
My body, betraying my brain completely, acted on pure instinct. I looped my arms around his neck, pulling him close and burying my face in the clean, new cotton of his shirt.
"I love you," I finally managed, the words a raw, choked sound against his chest. The confession, once spoken, came pouring out. "I love you, Jun. No matter where you are, no matter what happens, I will always, always love you."
His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against him. "I love you too, Yui," he whispered into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. "More than myself."
He just held me like that, a steady, warm anchor in my happy, ridiculous storm, until the tears finally subsided, leaving me shaky and utterly content. By the time I pulled back, the magnificent parfait had melted into a sweet, sad puddle in its glass.
Jun called the waitress over. "Could we please get another one of these? Just a small size this time."
When the new, smaller parfait arrived, he looked at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yui… next time, how about we go to a more quiet place?"
"Quiet?" I asked, my voice still a little rough.
"Yeah," he said, a teasing glint returning to his eyes as he glanced around the café. "A place where we can rest without being interrupted by anyone else." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "A place where you can cry all you want without making a scene."
Ah. I did it again, didn't I? When did I become such a crybaby? I pouted, glaring up at him. "Whose fault do you think that is?"
He just laughed, a deep, happy sound. "I'm thinking Hakone," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "Next week. An onsen resort."
He leaned in, his gaze intense, his hand finding mine on the table. "Just you and me."
"Just… you and me?" The words were a soft, breathless echo.
He leaned in further, pressing a soft, firm kiss to my forehead. The touch was a promise, a seal on a new contract.
"Just you and me."