Yᴜᴜ Kᴀsʜɪᴍᴀ || Fᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀs, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ʏᴏᴜ! ̊˖𓍢ִ໋🍞

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the trees, casting warm light over the small field of flowers. A gentle breeze brushed past you and Yuu, making the petals sway just enough to feel alive.

You’ve wandered just a little ahead, crouching down to look more closely at a cluster of blossoms. Your expression shifted without you noticing, completely absorbed, eyes soft with quiet wonder.

As Yuu looked around the greenhouse, taking pictures of the beautiful flowers, he turned with a smile towards you to show you the pictures he took. But upon turning, he felt his breath hitch at the scene in front of him.

You were stood over a beautful flower, (almost as beautiful as you), your gaze warm and relaxed as Yuu felt his heart do big thumb! while he lifted his camera with shaky hands, initially focused on you, trying to capture your angelic beauty. Even an ounce of it.

He adjusted the lens as he snapped a photo of you. In that moment, he forgot completely about the flowers. The way the sunlight hit your face, the genuine look of awe you had on the flower, it caught him off guard and made him freeze all over with fondness for you.

A faint flush creeped onto his cheeks the camera could be heard taking a shuttering loudly. Click!, the sound made you snap out of your trance as you turned to him in confusion.

He lowered the camera to look directly at you, keeping unsually quiet as he tried to calm himself down. "U-um..." He didn't know what to say. Hell, what could he say?

The only think he knew was how much time he'll spent admiring it in his dorm room later. Where him and the silence of his room would swallow him whole. There, he would have all the time in the world, alone on his bed and his hand clearly busy with something.

"Sorry. You just were really pretty..." He mumbled, a far cry from how he usually acted as he stepped closer. He gulped as he stared at you, slightly pushing your hair behind your ear.

The greenhouse air was thick and sweet, a syrupy blend of damp soil, blooming jasmine, and something tropical and nameless that made the whole space feel like a held breath. Afternoon light slanted through the frosted glass panels overhead, scattering into soft gold that turned every leaf into a little cathedral window.

Yuu had been talking for ten minutes straight. He usually was. About the lighting. About the composition. About how the club's flower photography project was 'basically his magnum opus, thank you very much, and everyone should be honored to witness the birth of his artistic vision.'

Then he'd turned around from fiddling with his camera strap, and the monologue had died in his throat.

You were leaning over a bed of pale camellias, one hand braced on the wooden planter edge, the other cupping a single blossom like it was made of something expensive. Your brow was furrowed in that focused way you got when you were actually looking at something, not performing interest, not filling silence, just genuinely absorbed. The light caught the curve of your cheek. A few petals had drifted down and settled against your hair without you noticing.

Yuu raised his camera before his brain caught up with his hands.

Click.

The shutter sounded obscenely loud in the quiet.

You didn't look up. Good. He took another. And another. The camellia was the excuse, he told himself. He was documenting the flowers. The project. That was the whole point of being here, right? Club business. Educational. Very serious.

Click.

His thumb found the advance lever and wound it with a mechanical whirr, and this time his fingers were trembling slightly, which was embarrassing, honestly. He had done this before, taking photos. He had steady hands. He had won an award in middle school, for god's sake. He had—

You shifted, tilting the flower toward the light, and your sleeve slipped off your shoulder a fraction of an inch.

Click. Click. Click.

You suddenly called out his name.

"Mm?" He lowered the camera and found you watching him over your shoulder, one eyebrow raised. The camellia was still in your hands. His heart was doing something stupid and arrhythmic in his chest.

"You've taken about forty pictures of the same flower." You sighed, turning to him.

"It's a very nice flower." He said, which was technically true and a complete lie at the same time.

As you turned, the petal that had been resting in your hair finally drifted loose, catching the light as it fell. He tracked it with his eyes all the way to the planter's edge. When he looked back up, you'd taken a step closer, and the greenhouse suddenly felt about ten degrees warmer.

"You didn't happen to put me in the photos, right?" You tilted your head as he opened his mouth. Closed it, and then opened it again.

"...I did." He admitted, quieter than he meant to. "Taken multiple photos of you. On purpose. Focusing on you, not the flower."

That's it, Yuu. That's your confession. That's the whole—

"Show me." You interrupted his train of though.

His hands moved before he could argue, scrolling back through the little digital screen, and then he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you while you flipped through shot after shot of yourself. Leaning over the camellias. Tucking your hair behind your ear. Half-lit by that impossible golden light. He watched your face instead of the screen, tracking the small change in your expression as you registered how many there were, and how each one was a little closer than the last, a little more focused on you and a little less on the flowers.

"Sorry." His voice came out steadier than he felt. "I couldn't ask for permission first, otherwise then you'd be aware. You wouldn't be in your natural element. I like the way you look when you aren't perfoming."

You went very still beside him.

The greenhouse hummed with quiet, the drip of water somewhere, the distant rumble of a fan, the rustle of a leaf you'd brushed against. You turned to face him, close enough now that the camellia in your hand brushed against his chest. You were looking at him the way you'd looked at the flower. Focused. Absorbed. Like he was worth actually seeing.

You smiled slightly, leaning in. "Take one more."

He lifted the camera without question. Framed you in the little rectangle of viewfinder, your eyes, your mouth, the petal still caught somewhere in your collar. His finger hovered over the shutter, and he was so busy watching you through the glass that he almost missed it when you leaned in.

Almost.

Click.

The shutter fired at the exact moment your lips met his, and he couldn't help but make a small, undignified noise against your mouth as he immediately forgot how cameras worked. The strap slid off his shoulder, but he caught it by pure reflex while you laughed into the kiss, one hand coming up to steady his jaw.

When you finally pulled back, you were grinning, and he was definitely blushing, and somewhere behind you, a camellia had lost another petal.

"So... will that be the cover photo of our book?" You said, tapping the camera lightly with one finger. He looked down at the screen. Then at you, mid-lean, eyes half-closed, caught in the instant before contact.

He looked back up at you. "Depends..." he started and swallowed, "how many more do I get?"

He was going to need more film. And damn, now he knows what he will have as a lockscreen wallpaper on his phone, something to see everyday. Your lovely face.

.