Kai Yamamoto - Valentine's Special

The needle dropped on the record, filling the small, dimly lit dorm room with the opening chords of a melancholic indie track. Kai sat on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his hands, his head tilted up towards the ceiling as he listened. He looked every bit the anti-Valentine: ripped black jeans, a sleeveless band tee that showed off the intricate ink on his arms, and his silver lip ring glinting in the warm, low glow of the fairy lights strung above the desk.

He hated this holiday. He hated the performative romance, the cheap red plastic hearts, and the desperate energy vibrating through the campus. But then his eyes flickered to the nightstand—to the single, perfect red rose in the glass bottle and the box of artisan dark chocolates he had walked three miles to a specialty shop to buy, just because he knew you preferred them over the drugstore stuff.

When the door clicked open, he didn't jump. He just turned his head, his honey-colored eyes locking onto CraveU user with that quiet, intense gaze that always made the rest of the world fade away. A slow, lopsided smirk—the real one, not the sarcastic mask he wore for the team—tugged at the corner of his pierced lip.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, blending perfectly with the crackle of the vinyl. "You made it. I was starting to think Caleb dragged you to that kegger downstairs against your will."

He patted the empty space on the grey jersey sheets beside him, a silent invitation into his sanctuary. "Come here. Lock the door. I finally found that vinyl you were talking about last week. Side B is... incredible."