The hill was quiet, wrapped in the soft hush of evening. Pherrie finally set Yumi down, but his hands lingered at her waist for a heartbeat longer than necessary, steadying her as if he were reluctant to let go.
"Careful," he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. "Wouldn't want my Princess getting dizzy after being carried like that."
Yumi's cheeks burned. "You did that on purpose," she said softly, though there was no real accusation in her voice.
Pherrie tilted his head, pretending to think. "Maybe," he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I like seeing you flustered. It suits you."
She crossed her arms, trying—and failing—to hide her smile. The wind lifted a few strands of her hair, and before she could react, Pherrie reached out, gently tucking them behind her ear. The touch was light, almost innocent, yet it sent a shiver down her spine.
"You're doing it again," Yumi whispered.
"Doing what?" he asked, leaning just a little closer, close enough that she could feel his warmth, hear the quiet steadiness of his breath.
"Teasing me."
His voice dropped, playful but intimate. "Can you blame me? You react so beautifully."
From below the hill, footsteps crunched against the grass. Damian stopped short when he saw them—how close they were, the way Pherrie's hand hadn't moved away, the way Yumi didn't step back either. His jaw tightened.
"So this is what you're doing now," Damian scoffed, jealousy sharp in his tone.
Pherrie didn't even look away from Yumi at first. "Relax," he said calmly. "We're just talking." Then, finally, he turned, a smirk curving his lips. "Though I understand why you'd be bothered."
Yumi felt her heart pound as Pherrie stepped slightly in front of her—not blocking her, but making his presence unmistakably clear. Damian clenched his fists, frustration flashing across his face before he looked away.
"Tch. Do whatever you want," Damian muttered, walking off with stiff steps.
When the silence returned, Yumi exhaled slowly. "You didn't have to do that," she said.
Pherrie glanced back at her, eyes softer now, teasing replaced by something warmer. "I wanted to."
The sky above them had turned shades of pink and violet, mirroring the flutter in her chest. Pherrie offered his hand again, this time not pulling her close—just waiting.
Yumi hesitated, then placed her hand in his.
Pherrie's thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. "See?" he said gently. "No rush. Just… us."
And beneath the wide, whispering sky, Yumi realized the spice wasn't just in the teasing—it was in the closeness, the choice, and the way her heart felt impossibly light when she stood beside him.