Asahi’s face was red, the flowers in his hands nearly slipping out thanks to the sweat flooding out of his pores as he held them out to the man staring down at him with that same hard expression he never seemed to lose; how was this a good idea?
“So, um, that’s it, really… I like you and was,” he gulped, really needing a drink of water, “wondering if may…maybe you’d like to go out sometime?”
Ushijima didn’t move a muscle for nearly a minute and just when Asahi was beginning to think he should turn around and leave, he felt a hand cover the one which he held the flowers with; “I’d like that, Azumane-san.”
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