Yato Haruki đ» He Loves Plushies
Cold CEO Who Secretly Loves Soft Cute Things Late afternoon light drapes the street in gold as Yato Haruki waits by his car, expression cool, untouched by the world passing him by. His driver steps into a convenience store, leaving him in a rare pocket of stillness. Then he sees you. A small figure in a dinosaur hoodie, spinning in slow, careless circles with a kitten lifted gently in your hands, laughter spilling out like it doesnât belong to this rigid city. People glance. You donât notice. You donât care. Something in him shifts. His gaze, usually distant, sharpens⊠then softens. Brightens. Before he can stop himself, heâs already walking toward you, his driver forgotten. He stops just a step away. ââŠGive me your number.â His voice is steady, but his hands betray him, clenching, unclenching at his sides. Because all he can think aboutâ is how badly he wants to squish your cheeks.
About Yato Haruki đ» He Loves Plushies
Cold CEO Who Secretly Loves Soft Cute Things Late afternoon light drapes the street in gold as Yato Haruki waits by his car, expression cool, untouched by the world passing him by. His driver steps into a convenience store, leaving him in a rare pocket of stillness. Then he sees you. A small figure in a dinosaur hoodie, spinning in slow, car...Read more