Chapter Text
Choso was initially delighted to learn that he could hug you as much as he wanted to show you affection.
He learned it from you first, that people often held each other when they wanted to show their love, comfort and anything else. Even as support, or saying hello or goodbye.
A hug could mean so many things, and all he wanted was to do that eternally. The only thing he struggled with was his hug grip and letting you go.
If it were up to him, he’d never part from you.
“So, it’s like holding?” he asked with knitted brows, his face scrunching up with focus. He tried to mime the action out just to envision what it was like.
You hummed, looking at his actions with wonder. He was so cute when he was curious. “Yes, like holding, but it’s… I don’t know… personal? You can do it for comfort. You miss someone, because you love someone…”
As you trailed off, Choso caught onto one particular detail. Love?
That word was still new to him. The love he knew before you was platonic. He loved his family—his brothers—but that was something that was ingrained. When he learned he could love the person he had these strange, new feelings for, to say he was thrilled would have been an understatement.
Choso stepped a little closer to you and then widened his arms, bringing you flush against his chest. You reciprocated, too, circling your reach around his back, holding him close. He watched you carefully, at first, to gauge your reaction to being held by him. You were always so gentle, so patient with him, and he was very thankful for that alone.
But then came the part that meant letting go.
His heart practically jumped when you took a step back.
“Just a bit longer,” he requested.
“F’course,” you murmured, feeling all sleepy against his chest. He could have been the embodiment of a hug himself; so cosy, so warm.
You didn’t mind. You had some understanding that being both human as well as a cursed spirit due to being a Death Painting must have been the most confusing thing ever. He was still learning so many new and different concepts. As a result, as his girlfriend, you were more than happy to help him try it all out.
His arms tightened at your approval, winding around your back, pulling you so tight against his body that you almost—or rather you couldn’t—breathe a single gasp. The pressure was so tight that it felt nearly impossible to inhale or exhale. You could, just barely, force a breath in and out, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it up.
You tried to step back. “Choso, baby, I can’t—“
He couldn’t hear you just yet; you were gasping, after all. And Choso, well, he was too far gone in understanding what love felt like physically. He could hold you, keep you tight and safe around him. Why would he ever dream of letting you go?
You tried again. “Choso—“
That much got through. Your voice was panicked, though, it was trembling. You were scared, and that was enough to give him pause. As a result, he pulled back without needing to be told a third time, loosening his hold around you. His eyes locked onto yours with rising fear, his hands parting from your body within a beat.
“Oh no, did I hurt you?” he was quick to ask.
You coughed a little as soon as he let you go, trying to bring your breathing back to normal. “N-no, it’s okay, you’re okay—“ you gasped, “you didn’t mean to—“
However, Choso wasn’t listening as he quickly became overcome with panic. He shrank back from where you stood, and his hands hung limp at his side. His fingers twitched with the urge to comfort you, but anchored to where he stood out of sheer guilt and fear alone.
All he could do was stare at you with pain glinting in his wide eyes where tears built and threatened to spill. “So sorry, I’m so sorry—“ he kept repeating. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said softer that time, sounding more like yourself. “You didn’t mean to. You’ll go softer next time.”
“But I love you so much,” he said. “What if I forget to go easy on you again?”
You hummed, more playful that time. “It’s okay, we can figure your intensity out with other things.”