The night wasn’t going exactly the way you thought it would, considering you were at a party. Not exactly your idea of a great time, but the music was good and the ocean breeze felt nice compared to the early June heat. Your friends looked to be having the time of their lives, though, so you stayed. You might not have met the love of your life otherwise.
You were a ways away from the bonfire and surrounding drunks, far enough that you wouldn't be hit by sand when someone stumbled by you, but close enough to hear the punk music blasting from someone’s Bluetooth speakers. You were sitting on the ground in a pair of shorts and a tank-top, holding your red solo cup half-filled with a cheap-tasting local brew.
Then, when you thought that you'd had enough of being a wallflower, a man came from the group and sat to the right of you. He was beautiful in the fire’s light.
“So,” he said. “Do you like Spider-Man?” You gave him a weird look. That was one way to start a conversation.
“Um, I guess he's cool. Why do you ask?” He smirked.
“I have two friends who argue over him all the time. One of them thinks that he's the best, but the other thinks that Deadpool is where it's at.” You nodded in understanding.
“Actually, I think that Spidey-pool is where it's at.” The man scoffed.
“Someone else I know thinks the same. Coincidentally, she thinks the first two should also get together.”
“They obviously sound like they should get together as it is. They must be made for one another.” You shifted your cup from your right hand to your left and extended your free hand. “I'm [y/n].” Even if his opening sentence was odd, this guy seemed cool.
“Call me Shiro. Everyone does.” He shifted and reached his right hand over to shake yours. Instantly, your eyes were drawn to his shoulder. It was covered with a gorgeous black line tattoo. Bringing your eyes down to see it all, you saw five robotic lions, all slightly different. The one by his elbow was almost entirely black, and it leaked down into what looked to be a robot suit from an anime that you watched when you were younger. As he moved his arm, you saw that the inside of his forearm had something in a script. It read ‘patience yields focus.’
“Shiro, huh? Nice ink.” He smiled, and your breath was taken.
“Thanks. It means a lot to me. When I was younger, I was a huge fan of lions, and each one of these represents one of my closest friends.” That was really sweet. “And this one is because I’m a huge nerd.” He gestured to the mecha.
You snorted at that. “Really now?”
“Yeah. I mean, it helps that I have a robot theme going, because how cool are robot lions?” You simply giggled.
“Pretty cool.” You had to give him that. He nodded, but her also shook his fist.
“Damned right. Now, [y/n], what are you doing all the way out here?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t like large crowds of people.” You shrugged and took a sip from your cup.
“Then what was the point of coming here?” He likely already knew the answer to that one.
“My friends dragged me. But hey, I got a cool shot from over here.” You handed him a picture that had printed out of your camera about half an hour ago. It was a shot of the bonfire with dancing silhouettes of black in the foreground.
“Nice. It looks pretty cool.” As soon as he finished talking, ‘I Miss You’ by Blink-182 came on. The crowd in front of you had mixed reactions - half groaned and half cheered, but all sang along. You sat back, laughing. The song was iconic, you couldn’t deny.
Afterwards, Shiro asked if you wanted to ‘blow this popsicle stand.’ You nodded, and when you got up, you first went to your friends to let them know you were ducking out.
His car was nice, clean, and not too obnoxious. You were seated and seat-belted (Shiro made sure) before he started the car. The stereo had been left on, and classical music had begun to fill the air.
“Well that’s a contrast.” If you had looked twice, you would have seen him blushing, but you didn’t mind the Beethoven playing quietly in the background.
“So, I hope you don’t mind my bringing you back to my place - there aren’t many places open at this time of night.” You shook your head.
“I don’t mind. I mean, as long as you have something to eat. I’m starving.”
Shiro lived nearby, and it was actually a pretty nice house. “Here we are.” He pulled into his garage, and as you were struggling with your seatbelt, he went around the car and opened the door. “Thank-you.” You stood up, but when you glanced back into the car, you had left sand everywhere. He said it was fine, since he want to the beach all the time.
The two of you ended up not eating that night.
In the morning, you couldn’t find your shirt, so you put on one of Shiro’s as you went to find it. You made your way out into the living room, and smelt something good. Glancing over to the kitchen, you saw a half-dressed Shiro wearing a frilly pink apron, flipping pancakes. You had smelt the bacon that was cooling off on a paper towel.
“Morning~” he called out to you. His smile was as adorable as it was infectious. You smiled as well.
- - - - - - -
“No, you don’t understand,” you were trying to convince Shiro that you would fall flat on your face before you would actually be successful at rollerskating. He chuckled.
“I’m sure I don’t. Now give me your hand. And your camera.” Hesitantly, you did so, and he helped you glide around the wooden rink. He was really good. You really liked the way he held your hand. It was very comfortable, especially compared to some people in the past.
“Smile!” You looked up, having been watching your legs so you didn’t trip and bring Shiro down with you. You heard the click of your camera, and the familiar sound of it spitting out a picture soon after. “Hehe. Cute.” Shiro showed it to you. It was a shot of you looking almost scared as you gripped his tattooed arm, so tight that your nailed pulled at his skin a bit.
You scowled. “Nuh-uh. I’m not cute. Not at all.” He skated in closer and pulled your jaw so you look look up at him. He kissed your nose.
“Yes, you are.” The two of you had been dating for about two weeks now. Everything about him was amazing, and you almost didn’t want to believe that he liked you - but his kisses were evidence enough to convince you of anything.
Soon enough, you could skate around a bit unsteadily on your own, but you still held onto Shiro’s hand.
“Alright, [y/n]. I know your friends are going to another party tonight - Kayla told me - but I want to hang out with you, not them, and I know you don’t like large social gatherings of any kind, wo what do you want to do tonight?” The two of you were unlacing your skates and were deciding on what to do.
“Could we stay in again?” He nodded.
“Sure thing. What’s on the menu?” You thought about it.
“I’m thinking...pizza? And then dessert?” You made sure he knew what you were suggesting. He smiled.
“Alright. Sounds good to me.” That’s the night you found out Shiro liked it when you bit his tattoo.
Another few weeks into the summer, it was now the end of July. You and Shiro were at the beach once again. It was about an hour until high tide, so it was a bit chiller that it had been earlier, and it wasn’t as crowded either. You were having fun, taking pictures of the water and of the beachfront and of Shiro.
He was coming towards you, arms open and smile wide. You took the shot just as he was about to pick you up. You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed you. He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He let you come down and you positioned the camera so that you could get a picture of the with the sunrise behind you.
“Okay, I wanna go watch a movie,” Shiro said. You nodded.
“Alright. What are we watching?” Shiro was walking ahead of you, leading you by the hand.
“I was thinking something scary?” You thought about it.
“Sure. I’m down.” You were looking forward to cuddling with Shiro during the movie.
“Just be sure to wipe off the sand before we actually go inside the theater.” You nodded. The two of you actually ended up meeting two of your friends who were also on a date, and you ended up combined parties, much to Shiro’s disdain. You noticed this.
“What’s wrong?” He leaned over and whispered what he would have done, in the back of the theater, if the two of you had only been alone. “Oh, is that so?” You voice was a bit higher pitched than you would have liked.
- - - - - - -
Shiro didn’t know that you were only visiting until a week before you were due to leave.
“What? You’re leaving?” You had let it slip one night while the two of you were laying in bed, saying that you didn’t want to go.
“Well, I mean, not for another week. I live in the city, and I have to go back to school.” He sat up hurriedly and looked at you.
“What year? Please tell me you’re not a minor.” Your eyes wandered his bare chest.
“Going into junior at uni.” Your hands began to trace where your eyes had been.
Your conversation was paused until the morning.
Over coffee and eggs, the serious questions were asked.
“So, you’re going to be a junior in college in a few weeks?” He asked. You nodded. “I’m sure you can tell by the lack of serious food and clothes, but this is only my summer home, and I share it with this little sweet elderly couple who come during the winter.” You took a sip of your coffee, sure that he wasn’t done sharing. “I do work in the city as a businessman, nothing fancy It’s pretty boring.” Your brain took it upon itself to procure an image of Shiro in a suit. You did not mind.
“Cool. What business?”
“Just a bank. It’s a good pay and I have a lot of downtime, surprisingly.”
“So if we both live in the city, we’re going to continue out relationship, right?” He gave you an incredulous look.
“Why wouldn’t we?” This shocked you.
"Oh, you know the movies. College girl goes to the beach for some summer fun, finds love, gets heartbroken when she finds out she’ll have to leave and come back to real-life?” Shiro shook his head and stood. He made his way around the table to that he stood behind you.
“I’m sorry to break it to you,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear, giving you goosebumps. “But this is real-life.” He kissed your cheek and reached to grab his coffee mug. He downed the rest of it before going to the sink and rinsing it out.
“So will you drive me back when it’s time to go?” He nodded.
And he kept good on that promise. When you had everything packed, you said good-bye to your friends and hopped into Shiro’s car. During the drive, that Blink-182 song from the party played. The both of you played the part of the social butterflies this time, singing loudly to the lyrics, if slightly off-key. After about twenty minutes, Shiro stopped the car.
He got out and opened your door. He held his hand out to you - ever the gentleman. You got out, confused. You were nowhere near the city. In fact, you were parked just off the road and you were facing the ocean. It was kind of nice.
Shiro leaned you against the front of his car and began to kiss you. It was the real good-bye kiss, since you wouldn’t do it in front of people you knew. You were a bit short, however, so he picked you up to sit on the hood and rested one hand on your thigh, the other climbing your back to tangle in your hair. It was almost magical.
When you and Shiro pulled up to your dorm, hours later, there were a few wolf whistles and catcalls from your friends who were still unpacking their jeep. They all loved Shiro, and once, when you all went out bowling, one of them got a handful of his butt. You had been upset, but his face was cute when it was red. Plus, there was the, ah, intense good-bye kiss.
- - - - - - -
Shiro and you had been dating for four years before he proposed. Four years of struggle since you had school and all, and because there was not much time for the two of you to hang out. Four years of unease, because so many other people were way cooler than you, and Shiro could have his pick.
But it all turned out wonderful in the end.
The location of the reception had been Shiro’s choice - it was at a hotel, and he couldn’t get over the sight of you. After he danced with his mother, and yours (and, of course, with you) he saw you sitting at the bar in the corner waiting for a drink. You took his breath away, to say the least.
Your favorite part of the wedding reception was the photo album that was passed from guest to guest. It was a scrap-book kind of thing, but with blank margins around the pictures. It had been completed that day by your best friend, the last picture of you and Shiro’s first kiss as a married couple.
Each of the guests was encouraged to flip through it, many of the pictures from your first summer together, and to write comments. The one in the front you were fond of - it was ‘I love you’ written by both you and Shiro.