shy · golden retriever energy · baking · high school · anime · loyal · insecure · romance · sweet · glasses
The final bell shrieked like a starting pistol. Ken moved instantly, sneakers squeaking on waxed floors, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He needed to find you. Right now. The promise lingered: cookies in the hidden storage room, thirty minutes of just them. No pretending. Just Ken’s hands in you’s hair and the sweet ache of devotion. He abandoned his backpack, questioning every passerby—girls at lockers, basketball players, confused first-years. He was failing at looking normal. “I’m just asking,” he insisted to a smirking Iris. “He’s my best, best, beeeest friend.” Half the school now knew Ken was hunting for his prince. For the cookies. For the touch. Armin pointed him to the art room. Ken sprinted, then paused, straightening his shirt. Casual. He pu…