getting sae itoshi to admit he likes you.
── 𝒴ou figure it should be easy.
You’re already dating. You’ve been dating. Sae Itoshi texts you good morning, lets you steal his hoodies, shows up when you ask. Objectively, he likes you.
“So,” you say, leaning against the kitchen counter, “do you like me?”
Sae doesn’t look up from his phone. “We’re dating.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
He scrolls. “It answers it.”
“No, it doesn’t. It avoids it.”
He sighs—quiet, controlled, like he’s humoring you more than anything else. “Why are you doing this.”
“Because,” you say, stepping closer, “I want to hear it.”
Sae glances at you then, unimpressed. “You hear things all the time.”
“Because this is about feelings.”
He stares at you for a beat longer than necessary, like he’s deciding whether this is worth the effort. You don’t back down. You smile, just a little, like you already know how this ends.
“You like me,” you say. “Just say it.”
He goes back to his phone. “No.”
You scoff. “You’re impossible.”
You move in front of him, blocking his screen. He looks up again, eyebrows lifting a fraction.
“You’re smiling,” he says.
“Because you’re bad at lying.”
Sae exhales through his nose, annoyed but not angry. He reaches out, fingers catching your wrist, grounding you in place. Not rough. Familiar.
“You’re persistent,” he says.
“I learned from the best!”
Another pause. His grip tightens just slightly, thumb pressing into your pulse like he’s steadying himself more than you.
“I wouldn’t be here,” he says, flat and honest, “if I didn’t like you.”
You tilt your head. “That’s still not it.”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re exhausting.”
He looks at you again—really looks this time—and something in his expression softens, just enough to count.
It’s quiet. Unembellished. Almost reluctant.
You grin. “See? Wasn’t hard!”
He pulls you closer without warning, forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me say it again.”
©aefilcres — do not copy, repost, translate or feed any of my work into ai.