Setting: SEALED School AU
Toya's PoV
Notes: Continues from Confession/Jealousy/Adjustment.

Love, he discovers, comes slow.

It takes a while for Toya to understand, because he's too busy trying to find love between them in the same way everyone else does. He knows nothing of love, or at least in terms of romance, and so he studies the way the other teen couples look at each other. He is envious of the embarrassing nicknames and the sappy looks and the clingy touches, not because he wants it too but because he cannot imagine ever being comfortable enough for those things. This isn't me, he thinks, and he always feels a little guilty afterwards for Sho, for being the person he is.

Sho deserves better. The way he is kind, finding the time to care about others even when he should be worrying about himself first. The way he is strong whenever he lapses into a vision, never able to turn off his Gift but never letting it win. The way he never complains, even if Toya has no idea how to love him, even if he has no idea what it means to love someone. Sho deserves better.

But oh, when Sho smiles. Not the smile he shows to everyone, but the one when they are alone. It's different because it comes after a gentle kiss or a soft, unexpected touch. He sees Sho smile, a little bashful but warm and quiet like morning sunlight and kindness. It's strange, but he feels giddy afterwards, a little bashful too.

And the way Sho's eyes light up at the smallest things. When he sees Toya waiting for him, after classes are over. When Toya asks if he wants to spend more time together, even when the request is selfish because he just doesn't feel like seeing Sho home just yet. The way Sho's eyes light up in wonder when he gazes at the night sky, because Toya wants to show him the things he loves too, and the reflection of the stars in Sho's eyes distracts Toya from the real thing above them. He used to think that stars were the most soothing things he'll ever see, but then he sees them in Sho's face and realizes there are different ways to feel calm and content. He just never thought it could be in another person.

Sho deserves more. He finds himself thinking that, and less that he deserves someone else. It's selfish, because he isn't the kind of person who can give him those ridiculous nicknames, those sappy looks and clingy touches, but he loses the thought that he could be willing to let someone else give Sho those things. There is a better happiness out there, but he finds himself wanting to be that for Sho even if he has no idea how.

"I'm sorry I'm like this," he says once to Sho. "I didn't know I would be this selfish. I know you deserve more."

Sho looks confused at first, and then he frowns. "More? I don't want more," he says. "I just want you."

"Just this?" Toya asks. He can't imagine what he has given Sho, because he hasn't done much at all. Sho squeezes his hand.

"Just this. And this is enough."

So he stops apologizing, presses the guilt away, and tells himself that he is enough.

And yet, even without doing anything, some things do change. The embarrassing nicknames never come, but Sho's name feels different in his mouth. It's strange how a name can feel so different to say, but it's soft and warm and familiar. Sho hears the difference as well, and even if it's his own name he looks so flustered that Toya can't help but feel each time he calls Sho he sends a piece of his heart to him too.

And the touches. He presses a finger between Sho's furrowed brows, where there is a wrinkle. Sho is too tense and serious sometimes, and Toya is starting to wonder if the wrinkle is making a home there. Sho looks at him, relaxing under his touch, raising an eyebrow in question with a small, confused smile on his lips. Toya realizes he is touching someone with an affectionate comfort he has never felt before. Without feeling that he needs to be polite. Without feeling that he needs to be distant.

He holds Sho's hand in public for the first time. He doesn't think. At some unknown point he has grown accustomed to holding Sho's hand when they are alone. At some unknown point, holding Sho's hand has moved from something new and exciting to something familiar and comfortable. He doesn't think, so he reaches out for that familiar warmth. It's only when Sho tries to let go of his hand from embarrassment that he finally realizes he slipped up. Still, he doesn't let go, so Sho holds on to him too.

So this is love, he thinks one day when he catches his gaze lingering on Sho for a little too long because he can't take his eyes off his smile. It's not as flashy or as bold as he once believed it should be, at least in the way he has seen it shown. And maybe that was the problem with him; he'd thought love was impossible because he saw how loud it could look like and thought if he couldn't do those things he was incapable of it.

But maybe love can sometimes be quiet, given in small touches and lingering looks and with his heart in his voice. Maybe love can also come from the small things that can only be observed in silence, like the small differences in Sho's smiles, like the stars reflected in his eyes. Maybe love can be a little selfish, when the thought of leaving hurts even if he still thinks Sho deserves more. And if these things can be love then surely he can be enough, at least for now. Surely he can be forgiven for not letting go.

This is love, and it comes slow.