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V leaned against the doorframe of her apartment, arms crossed, watching as Takemura adjusted his jacket in the mirror. He had the stoic demeanor of a samurai ready for battle, posture rigid, expression carved from stone. All this for a trip to the shops.
“Goro, we’re going shopping, not storming a fortress,” V said, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk.
He turned to her, brow furrowed with complete sincerity, because of course he took this seriously. “One must always be prepared for unforeseen events. Danger can find you anywhere in Night City.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure the sock aisle is a war zone.”
He said nothing, but his eyes flicked toward her like she was the one being absurd.
“Just… try not to scare off the salesclerks, okay? This is supposed to be fun.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “As you wish.”
JINGU Clothing Store was an oasis of luxury nestled in the heart of Night City’s Corpo Plaza. The storefront gleamed with pristine glass panels and mannequins dressed in tailored suits and avant-garde streetwear posed with an air of effortless sophistication. Inside, the store was serene and hushed, a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside.
Takemura raised an eyebrow at the store sign, his hand instinctively moving to to straighten his already perfectly aligned jacket. “V, are you certain about this place? It appears... different to your usual…style.”
V crossed her arms, feigning offense. “Are you calling me cheap, samurai? I’ll have you know I can be stylish. Just not my fault I’ve spent most of my time dying, getting shot at, and occasionally returning the favor.”
Goro’s eyes flicked toward the storefront, then back to her. He looked almost concerned. “I wasn’t implying…” he stutterd. She cut him off, because winding him up was just too easy.
“Wow I get it. Just ‘cause I’ve never worn a dress around you, you think I can’t pull it off. Not like those polished little corpo girls, huh? That's it?”
Now Goro actually did look worried. “I am sorry if my words were careless, you are a beautiful woman do not doubt-”
She couldn’t help it, she started grinning halfway through. He stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing as the realization hit. The worry melted from his face, replaced by a dry, unimpressed stare.
“Aww, Goro,” she said, amusement thick in her voice. “Don’t stop now. Tell me more about how stunning I am.”
He sighed deeply and glanced skyward like he was asking the heavens for backup.
V burst out laughing as he turned and walked toward the store without another word. She jogged to catch up, still giggling.
“Anyway,” she said, nudging him playfully, “I need a dress because apparently my partner doesn’t think I’m hot enough.”
Another exhausted sigh from Goro. Even more satisfying than the last.
“Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, mister. I can’t have you walking around in that one old shirt and jacket all the time,” she said, giving him a leering once-over. “Even if it does look really, really good on you.”
“V,” he said firmly, planting his feet. “You should not spend your money on me. I have saved enough- ”
She interrupted him with a sly grin. “Relax, Goro. Zane, the owner, is a friend. We chat sometimes about all the juicy gossip floating around Night City. He loves me. He’ll cut us a deal. Also I do have a lot of money and not enough ways to spend it.”
Takemura gave her a skeptical look but as they stepped inside, his unease deepened. The opulent interior, with its polished marble floors, soft ambient lighting, felt far too indulgent. Each article of clothing looked more like an art piece than something to be worn.
“Welcome to JINGU!” A tall man with perfectly coiffed hair and a sharp, tailored suit approached them, his face lighting up when he saw V. “V, darling! I was wondering when I’d see you again.”
“Hey, Zane!” V greeted him with a casual wave. “Got a special mission today, this guy here.” She gestured toward Takemura, who stiffened slightly under Zane’s appraising gaze. “He needs a wardrobe upgrade and I thought, who better to help than you?”
Zane clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh, I’d be delighted! A classic man with such a strong jawline and those broad shoulders, yes, we’ll have fun with this one.”
Goro coughed, his cheeks faintly pink. “I am not certain I require such… fanfare.”
V grinned, stepping closer to him. “C’mon, Goro. Let yourself be spoiled a little. You’ve earned it.”
He hesitated, visibly torn between his sense of practicality and her encouragement. Finally, he sighed, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Very well. But only because you insist.”
“Damn right I do.” She smiled softly at him, before turning to Zane with a wicked look. “Also I need a dress because apparently I’m not classy enough.”
The salesclerk took a big dramatic breath. “Oh darling, who told you that lie?!”
She laughed as Goro rolled his eyes again.
As Zane led them toward a rack of crisp dress shirts, Takemura turned to V, his expression softer now. “You are very kind to do this for me.”
She shrugged, her tone light but her eyes warm. “Someone’s gotta make sure you look as sharp as you are, right?”
Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him, a brief but tender gesture that left him momentarily speechless. When she pulled back, her grin was playful. “Make it up to me, yeah?”
Takemura nodded earnestly. “Of course. I will repay you.”
V’s grin widened mischievously. “Anything I want?”
He paused, narrowing his eyes slightly but nodding. “Yes. Anything.”
“Great!” she said, clapping her hands together. “Here’s my price. You mister are gonna buy more than just white shirts and black slacks today. I’m talking about at least two T-shirts, a pair of sweatpants and a few sweaters. And here’s the kicker, at least two of those things can’t be black or white.”
Takemura blinked, surprised by her sudden list of demands and then a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You have planned this, haven’t you?”
“Obviously.” She winked. “And don’t even think about arguing. It’s your fault for making that promise.”
He shook his head, his amusement clear. “Very well. But only because it pleases you.”
Yet he left to browse through the racks as if in punishment.
V leaned casually against the counter at JINGU, her arms crossed as she watched Goro scrutinize a rack of white shirts. They all looked identical, crisp, neatly pressed and utterly devoid of personality. But to Goro, each shirt was apparently a puzzle demanding his full attention.
“Look at him,” V said with a smirk, turning her attention to Zane. “Five identical shirts and he’s acting like they hold the fate of the universe.”
Zane laughed, a sharp and theatrical sound. “Ah the troubles of corpo men having to pick between gray and darker gray.”
“Goro’s not a corp anymore,” V said, smiling fondly as she glanced back at him. “But yeah, he’s still pretty married to his whole black-and-white aesthetic.”
The two fell into an animated debate, with Zane arguing for earth tones and V passionately defending jewel and pastels. Meanwhile, Goro continued his meticulous shirt selection, blissfully unaware of the commentary unfolding a few feet away.
Takemura dutifully selected a few impeccably tailored white shirts and black slacks. However, when it came to fulfilling V’s colorful demands, he was less certain. While browsing the ties, his eyes landed on a deep purple one with a subtle geometric pattern. He picked it up, imagining how it would complement V’s favorite color palette.
He added a few more ties in various shades, forest green, cobalt blue and a fiery crimson, and even found matching pocket squares to go with them. It was his quiet way of indulging her tastes while staying true to his reserved style. If she wanted him to wear colourful shirts she should have been more specific in her demands, he thought amused.
Meanwhile, V was leaning against a counter, chatting animatedly with Zane. “So, did you hear about that corpo who got caught trying to bribe a Trauma Team to drop her rescued coworker?” he asked, laughing.
V gasped, hand pressed to her chest. “No! Do tell.”
Takemura glanced at her, shaking his head with a small smile. She was so engrossed in gossiping that she didn’t notice him leaving a stack of cash for the clothes.
“V,” he said, stepping close.
She turned, grinning. “Done already?”
“Yes. And I even followed your instructions,” he said, his voice laced with mild exasperation.
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Oh? Did you actually get something that isn’t black or white?”
“You will see later,” he said cryptically. “Have you picked a dress?”
“Ha! So you do think I need one!” She shot back with mock offense, eyes narrowing in exaggerated accusation. He noticed the salesclerk nearby trying to mask a laugh behind a polite cough. Wonderful. Now he was part of the entertainment.
“I do not think you need any clothes to look more beautiful, V,” he said, keeping his voice steady, every word chosen with care. He stepped closer, lowering his tone. “In fact, I prefer you without any.”
“Oh?” V raised an eyebrow at him amused. Shame on him for not realizing that V was not so easy to fluster.
“Shall we go to the next store?” He asked after a minute of holding her gaze.
“Sure,” she said quietly. “Let me just pay.”
“Already did.” He admitted proudly.
“What?” She appeared surprised. “No,” she said sternly.
“No?” He inclined amused.
“No,” she repeated. “Zane, whatever money he gave you, refund it. It’s on me.”
“V,” Goro started slowly. “You really don’t need to-”
He got silenced with a kiss. It was short and sweet, but the message was clear. V will do whatever V wants to.
He was inclined to try to convince the salesclerk but as he turned to him he got handed his cash and an amused ‘what can you do’ look.
Well maybe he will have more luck next time, he thought as he followed satisfied V to the door.
The next shop was smaller and more casual, with racks of cozy sweaters, soft T-shirts and loungewear. Takemura immediately gravitated toward the plain black T-shirts and sweatpants, fulfilling V’s minimum colour requirements beforehand. Her face when he presented her with his new colourful addictions, on their way here, was best described as exhausted, amused and if he says so himself a little impressed.
“Alright, you’ve technically met the quota,” V said, giving him a dry look. “But we’re not leaving until we get you some actual clothes with colour. My pick this time.” She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Call it a gift if it makes it harder to refuse.”
Reluctantly, he allowed her to pick out several sweaters. Which she did with a lot of glee.
“Goro, you’ve got to try this one!” V’s voice rang out from across the store, drawing more than a few curious glances.
Goro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as she approached, holding up a sweater so hideous it defied logic. It was bright orange, with a pattern of green cacti dancing across it.
“No,” he said flatly, crossing his arms.
“Oh, come on,” she teased, holding it up to his chest. “Don’t you think the color brings out your eyes?” It seemed he was due revenge for his scheme to try to pick colourful ties to fulfil her demands.
“It does not,” he said firmly, giving the sweater a look of deep disdain.
“You haven’t even tried it on,” she said with a wicked grin. “Don’t knock it until you do.”
“V.”
“Just one picture,” she interrupted, waving the sweater at him. “For me? Please?”
He exhaled sharply, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you love it,” she shot back, already pushing the sweater into his hands.
Moments later, Goro emerged from the fitting room wearing the monstrosity. His usual stoic demeanor was marred by the way his shoulders stiffened, as though the sweater were physically offensive to his honor.
“Well?” he asked, his tone resigned.
V doubled over with laughter, clutching the edge of a display rack to steady herself. “Oh my god, Goro. You look... ” She gasped for breath. “You look majestic.”
He raised an eyebrow without a word.
“It suits you so well,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Goro sighed and started to tug the sweater off. “I have indulged your nonsense. Can we move on?”
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” she said, holding up another sweater. This one was green with a large, googly-eyed reindeer stitched onto the front. “What about this one? It’s festive!”
He groaned, taking the sweater. “Why must you torment me?”
A reluctant Goro returned to the floor wearing the reindeer sweater, which jingled faintly with every step thanks to tiny bells sewn into the antlers.
“You’re killing me,” V wheezed, snapping a picture on her phone before he could protest. “Goro, you’re the most serious man I know and here you are jingling like a Christmas ornament.”
“If you are quite finished,” he said, his tone dangerously calm, “I would like to return to selecting clothing that does not humiliate me.”
“Oh, come on,” she teased, sidling up to him. “You look adorable.”
“I do not wish to look adorable,” he grumbled, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.
“Too late,” she said, giving him a wink.
They both knew Goro was simply indulging her but her melodic laugh, wide smile and glistening eyes made it worth a little humiliation. That was until she presented him with the sweater number three.
It was arguably the worst piece of clothing ever created. It was hot pink, covered in glittering cat faces.
“Absolutely not,” Goro said the moment he saw it.
“Goro,” she said sweetly, holding it up. “For me?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“No.”
She pouted dramatically. “You promised to do anything for me earlier.”
He sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. “You are the most exhausting woman I have ever met.”
“And yet,” she said, grinning, “here you are.” Well, one more won’t hurt his pride anymore then it already has been hurt.
When Goro finally stepped out wearing the pink cat sweater, he looked like a man who had made peace with his suffering. V gasped, clapping her hands.
“You’re beautiful,” she declared, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. “I’m in awe. Truly.”
“I will never forgive you for this,” he said, though his lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.
“Admit it, you’re having fun,” she said, walking up to fix the collar of the sweater.
He looked at her, his dark eyes warm despite his words. “Never.”
He was rewarded for his troubles with another sweet kiss.
She laughed, pulling away from him after a too short moment. “Alright, let’s get you back into something that doesn’t make you look like an old cat lady.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly. “Though I suspect I will be haunted by this day for years to come.”
“Oh, you will,” she said with a wicked grin.
To his grand relief her final choices were in muted tones. Dark green, soft brown, deep wine, dark purple and a rich navy. He admitted to himself that they were surprisingly comfortable when he tried them on.
“You know,” V said as she examined him in the brown sweater, “you look hot in these.”
Takemura raised an eyebrow. “Hot?”
“Yeah,” she said, her tone turning suggestive. “You should model them for me later. Just saying.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Impossible woman.”
“And you love it,” she shot back with a wink.
He didn’t argue, his lips curling into a rare, genuine smile. As they left the store with their bags in tow, Takemura found himself wondering how he’d gotten so lucky. It also gave him an idea.
The Japanese district was alive with vibrant lanterns, bustling crowds and the inviting aroma of street food wafting through the air. Goro maneuvered their car into a narrow parking spot with his usual precision.
“Where are we going?” V asked, falling into step beside him.
“There is a small market here that sells organic food,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. “It took me weeks to find it. Most places in Night City sell… questionable products.”
“Questionable?” V teased, raising an eyebrow.
He glanced at her, his lips pulling into a slight grimace. “Questionable is an understatement. I once bought a package of instant noodles that claimed to have real shrimp in it. Do you know what it contained instead?”
“Enlighten me,” she said, already smirking.
“Shrimp-flavored gelatin cubes,” he replied, his tone filled with disdain. “Another time, I purchased rice that turned out to be made with a side of synthetic polymers. It was…” He shuddered. “…a learning experience.”
V couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer indignation in his voice. “You’re such a food snob.”
“I value quality,” he retorted, his tone defensive but his expression softening. “And after many such… disappointments, I found this market. It is the closest to authentic ingredients one can find here.”
As they entered the store, the serene ambiance was a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside. The neatly arranged shelves displayed fresh vegetables, aromatic spices and carefully packaged products with Japanese labels.
Goro took a deep breath, as if savoring the mere existence of the place. “This is how food should be,” he declared.
V couldn’t resist. She leaned over, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re adorable when you get all passionate about vegetables.”
He froze, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. “Adorable?” he repeated, clearly flustered.
“Yeah,” she said, grinning. “Adorable.”
Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to the shelves. “We should focus on the ingredients. I intend to make curry tonight and there are specific items we will need.”
Goro led the way, meticulously examining every product before placing it in their basket. V trailed behind, occasionally sneaking in items of her own, chips, instant ramen and a jar of vivid pink pickled radishes.
“V,” he said sharply, pulling the jar of radishes out of the basket. “What is this?”
“They looked cool,” she replied with a shrug.
“They are unnecessary,” he said, setting the jar back on the shelf. “And I question whether they even belong to this store.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, grabbing a bag of wasabi-flavored chips and tossing it in. “Live a little.”
He frowned, picking up the chips and holding them up like evidence in a courtroom.
V burst out laughing. “Goro, it’s just a snack.”
“A snack that contains more chemicals than actual food should,” he said, placing the bag back with a pointed look. “If you are going to eat snacks, there are better options.” He grabbed a bag of roasted seaweed and held it out to her.
She made a face. “Seaweed? Seriously?”
“It is healthy and flavorful,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, no thanks,” she replied, grabbing the chips again and holding onto them this time.
He sighed deeply, as if her choice personally offended his sensibilities. “This city has corrupted your common sense.”
“Food snob,” she whispered with a grin.
Despite their banter, they managed to gather everything needed for the curry. Tender cuts of what Goro decided was as close to meat as he would get in Night City, spices, carrots, potatoes and onions. V would have to see if she could get Hands to smuggle some real chicken for her. Goro even found freshly baked bread to serve on the side, which he inspected thoroughly before deeming it acceptable.
When they reached the checkout counter, V leaned casually against the counter, watching as Goro meticulously placed each item for scanning. The cashier, a young man with tired eyes, rang them up with a speed that suggested he just wanted his shift to end.
She did manage to get her chips afterall.
As they loaded the groceries into the car, V watched as Goro carefully arranged the bags to prevent anything from being crushed.
“You know,” she said, her voice playful, “you never told me what you’re gonna do to make up for calling me impossible.”
He paused, straightening up. “I will prepare the best curry you have ever tasted. Does that suffice?”
She pretended to consider it. “Hmm… I think I’ll need to taste it first. But don’t worry, I’ll let you know if it’s acceptable.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as she climbed into the passenger seat.
As they drove home, the faint scent of the market’s fresh produce lingered in the air, a quiet reminder of the simple joy they had found in each other’s company, even amidst the chaos of Night City.
The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the air as Goro and V stepped into their apartment, bags of groceries in hand. Without a word, they both began unpacking, moving seamlessly around each other as though choreographed.
She started stacking rice in the pantry. “You’ve got this place organized like a military barracks.”
“Discipline ensures efficiency,” he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he rearranged the spice rack she had disturbed.
“Uh-huh,” she teased, leaning over to sneak the bag of chips she had insisted on keeping.
Goro caught her wrist with a knowing look. “Those do not belong there.”
“They do when I say so,” she said with a grin, bumping his shoulder lightly as she set them on the counter instead.
As Goro set the last of the groceries in place, V wandered over to their small but carefully curated vinyl collection. She thumbed through the records until she found one that she felt Goro would like for the evening. A mix of soothing jazz and old-school blues.
Even though they lived together for only two weeks their apartment was already a mix of V’s edgy, eclectic taste and Takemura’s minimalist one. With the bags of groceries taken care of Goro spread ingredients out on the counter and immediately set to work, chopping vegetables.
“Perfect,” she said, letting the music spill into the apartment.
She hopped up onto the counter, legs swinging as she watched Goro begin preparing the meal. “This is my favorite part of the day,” she said, propping her chin on her hand.
He glanced over his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips. “Watching me work?”
“Exactly,” she said, smirking. “Feels like I’ve got my own personal chef.”
Goro raised an eyebrow. “I could teach you, you know. Cooking is a skill that can serve you well.”
“Tempting but I’d rather be spoiled and work free,” she said, her grin widening. “Besides, I like watching you. You’re good at this.”
He paused for a moment, her compliment visibly catching him off guard. His hands stilled on the cutting board and his shoulders tensed slightly before he resumed chopping. “Thank you,” he said softly.
The way his posture shifted, the slight downturn of his head and the faint color in his cheeks made V’s chest tighten. She couldn’t help but smile, her voice gentle as she added, “You really are, Goro. I don’t tell you enough but you’re incredible at everything you do.”
He looked at her then, his dark eyes filled with something she could only describe as awe. “You give me too much credit,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“Not possible,” she replied, meaning it. In that moment, she decided she wanted to drown him in compliments every chance she got, just to see that expression again.
V, still perched on the counter reached for a beer. She’d long since stopped offering to help. It was a disastrous lesson learned. Goro had then told her, in that overly polite way of his, that she was most helpful when she did not disrupt his process. Which, translated from Samurai meant: Please stop touching things before I kill you.
She wasn't offended. Honestly, being banned from the kitchen was a win. She got a solid meal and a free show, some girls just can't loose it seemed.
The aroma of stir-fried vegetables and savory meat filled the apartment. Goro set the table meticulously, placing a steaming bowl of rice in the centre and two bowls of curry on the side for them.
“Damn, this looks incredible,” she said, eyes widening as she sat down. She took a bite and groaned in delight. “Okay, curry goes on the list of V approved meals.”
He allowed himself a small smile. “I am glad to hear it.”
As they ate, they talked about small things. An interesting documentary Goro had seen an ad for earlier, a particularly obnoxious netrunner V had encountered during a gig.
When the meal was finished, V leaned back in her chair, patting her stomach. “Alright, I’m sold. You’re the best investment I’ve ever made.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I was unaware I was considered an investment.”
“You are,” she said, grinning. “Best damn arm-candy slash bodyguard slash chef, money can buy.”
He shook his head but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “And what of you, Valerie? What is your role in this arrangement?”
She smirked, leaning forward. “I’m the brains of the operation, obviously. You’ll do all the heavy lifting.”
“Of course,” he said, his voice laced with dry humor. “How foolish of me to forget.”
They shared a laugh, the kind that came easily when the world wasn’t pressing down on them for once.
The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the gentle rustling of pages. Goro lay stretched out on the couch, his head resting comfortably on V’s lap. In his hands, he held a book, the worn cover testament to its age.
V leaned back against the armrest, one hand idly flipping strands of his dark hair between her fingers. It was soft, much softer than she would have imagined back when they first met. She chuckled inwardly at the thought of him back then, so rigid, so formal, all sharp edges and duty. Now, here he was, looking as relaxed as she’d ever seen him.
“What’s so funny?” Goro asked without looking up from his book, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.
“Just thinking about how different you are now,” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing his scalp.
“Different?” he echoed, glancing up at her.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “The big scary ex-Arasaka samurai, now all soft and cuddly on my lap.”
He huffed, looking fairly unimpressed. “I am not ‘cuddly.’”
“You kind of are,” she teased, scratching gently at the nape of his neck. His shoulders visibly relaxed at the touchand she grinned. “And you like it.”
He didn’t argue, instead returning to his book, though his lips quirked upward in quiet amusement.
As he read, Goro found his thoughts drifting from the words on the page to the woman above him. Her fingers were deft and gentle, tracing slow, soothing patterns through his hair. It was such a simple thing and yet it filled him with a contentment he’d never thought possible.
He had never imagined himself in a moment like this, quiet, peaceful, utterly at ease. The life he’d known before had been one of constant vigilance and sacrifice, with no room for softness or indulgence. But here, with V, it felt natural. It felt like home.
Unable to resist, he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her thigh, just above her knee.
V looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna start something Samurai?”
“Just enjoying you,” he replied simply, his voice steady but warm. He kissed her thigh again, a little higher this time, the gesture unhurried and tender.
“You’re lucky I like you so much,” she teased, though the flush in her cheeks betrayed how much she loved the attention.
“I am more than lucky,” he said softly, resting his head back against her lap and meeting her gaze. “I am grateful.”
Her teasing grin softened into something more earnest. “Well, you deserve it, samurai. All of it.”
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the weight of her words settle over him. They were the kind of words he’d once dismissed as meaningless, things said to placate or manipulate. But coming from her, they were real. They were everything.
Her hand moved to his temple, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone in a slow, affectionate motion.
“What are you reading, anyway?” she asked softly.
“For Whom the Bell Tolls,” he said, lifting the worn book just enough for her to see the cover. He felt her body go still, just for a moment.
“I found it on the shelf. Should I not have touched it?”
“Huh?” she blinked, tilting her head as if shaken from a thought. “No, no. It’s a good book. Great book, yeah.”
“It is,” He nodded slowly, sensing the shift in her. Carefully, he set the book down on his chest and reached up, resting his hand on her knee. “Everything alright?”
She let out a quiet, breathy laugh, fingers sliding back through his hair, more to ground herself than to comfort him. “Yeah. Just… that book, it was Jackie’s. I found it at his place, looking for something to bring to his-."
Her voice dipped, soft and steady. “He always wanted me to read it. I said I would, but I never did. And after he was gone…” She trailed off, swallowing the end of the sentence. "I just... I couldn't-'
Goro looked up at her, his expression open, warm. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he offered the smallest, most genuine smile. “I could read it to you. If you’d like.”
She hesitated, just a beat, then nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Her voice trembled, just a little.
They stayed like that for a long time, the world outside fading away. He read the book, voice quiet and steady, turning the pages carefully. V played with his hair, sometimes twisting the strands absentmindedly, other times smoothing them out just to feel the texture. Goro closed his eyes occasionally, savoring the simple pleasure of her touch. Every so often, he’d press another kiss to her thigh, each one softer than the last.
Eventually, V leaned down, her voice a soft murmur. “You know, we could do this forever and I wouldn’t complain.”
He opened his eyes, his expression unguarded. “Neither would I.”
And in that quiet, shared moment, they both knew they meant it.