A/N: This is my first time writing for this couple, and my mind is just like FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. God, help me. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy my first oneshot for Hyouka.

They've been dating for nearly two years now, and each time he sees her, his heart still skips a beat, and no matter how many times he chides himself for acting like a goofy lovelorn child, he always becomes more aware of himself whenever he senses her presence.

And how could he not notice her, what with the way she always draws in everyone's attention.

If he had the energy for it, he'd definitely be prone to getting jealous.

He should really get used to seeing her walking towards his direction with that same look on her face – flushed cheeks, nervous smile; innocent round eyes that immediately light up when they meet his.

But he's the first to cave into their undeniable pull towards each other when they're merely ten inches apart as he reaches out to take her hand into his, feeling her small dainty fingers lace around his. He completely, utterly, lets his defenses crumble and shyly drops his gaze, suddenly finding his toes very interesting.

She leans into his warmth, and it surprises him how it's almost second nature that his arms, no matter how awkward as he stands by her side, embrace her small frame almost as if they're just meant to fit there. Doing his best to ignore how idiotic he's always acting around her – Because what ever happened to his gray life? – he bends his head down enough to whisper "Hey, Chitanda." with a mental battle ensuing in his head on how he really shouldn't be blushing this much in front of his girlfriend for almost two years. All embarrassed thoughts are quickly pushed aside when she tiptoes enough to encircle her arms around his neck breathing his name back into his ear. Content, he pulls her back to his chest and rests his chin on her head.

No onlookers would have believed they have been dating for nearly two years. They're constantly the subject of the school population's gossip; Eru being the heiress of the esteemed Chitanda clan, and her boyfriend Houtarou who is known as the resident lazy bum – not that they are ever harsh or brutal enough to be minded. Satoshi and Mayaka made sure of that.

She knows him well, though – knows him well enough to understand that Houtarou is not the showy, affectionate type. Her boyfriend's got his reputation – although not a particularly desirable one – to keep intact, after all. No girls could make such a dull, unmotivated person such as him weak or wobbly in the knees.

Not even one as pretty or angelic-looking as her.

So small gestures, like the way he dips her head and stares at her sideways, or the way he waits for her after school to walk her home, the way he subtly rests a hand on the crook of her waist when they stop before they part ways – it's enough.

But those times when he's uncharacteristically affectionate or tender, they're the best. Like the way he currently, absentmindedly tucks some stray strands of hair behind her ears, wiping a drop of perspiration down her cheek with utter softness, holding her bag in his arms, and returning her hug.

Houtarou seldom smiles. He's not known for being personal or friendly in school, establishing a reputation for being more of the silent type. But she's Eru, and they're in love – or something like it – and have been for over a year, and she reads him like the back of her palm. She knows how to read in between the lines, to read between the frowns and pursed lips to know when he's actually happy.

And really? Those crimson scarlet cheeks tell everything.

The boyish run of fingers through his hair, the way he grasps his bangs, the awkward glances to his toes, the shy avoidance of her gaze – all of this while intertwining his fingers around hers.

She doesn't expect much. She doesn't expect any greetings like, "How was your day?", or, "I've missed you."

No words.

Nothing.

But when she quietly breaks their embrace to show him a page of her personal notebook to show him a short, neat composition written in the elegant handwriting that is undeniably hers, she doesn't have much to say, either. Just-

"I've been writing something for Hyouka."

"For you." She wants to say, but doesn't. She just knows he knows.

His eyes reveal nothing as they scan the writing. She waits nervously, fidgeting as she anticipates his reaction.

She doesn't ask him what he thinks. She doesn't prompt him even when he hasn't said a word for almost a minute.

Because she knows.

She knows when she feels his fingers tighten around hers, his eyes suddenly finding the distance very interesting, refusing to meet her gaze.

Her heart pounds; he does this all the time when he's nervous, and she finds it incredibly endearing.

And there… there he goes again. His cheeks flush a very becoming shade of red. It's a bad habit of his that he can't help, he admits often.

She reassures him all the time it's okay. (Because she secretly loves it about him; loves everything.)

"You going to finish it anytime soon?" He says, simply for the sake of saying something to try and cover up his sudden shyness.

"Probably…" She teases, her eyes lighting up with mischief. She's smiling. And she knows it's only going to take a nanosecond or two before it affects him as well. "If I get the inspiration, I may even finish it quick."

It's bold of her, she knows. But being with him has always put her more at ease, and gives her courage to be more daring in times to themselves like these.

He hides his head to smile, but she catches him in the act, twirling before him, encasing his built frame with her small hands going all the way around him. Automatically, his head tilts to meet her eyes.

He sighs, not unhappily, as he catches a familiar glint in her eye. His cheeks are so red; he hopes he can still blame it on the pretext of the humid weather of late. Gently, he takes both of her hands off from the back of his waist, to intertwine with his fingers.

"Well…" He begins. "If you really need the inspiration…" Something changes in his eyes – something rare, like playfulness, a twinkle. Something he only shows around her. A vulnerable, soft side.

"Yes?" She giggles, the twinkle in her eye matching his as she tip toes, and inches closer to Houtarou.

He sighs once more, but not seriously, before he tilts his head to reveal the corner of his lips lifting with a slow, but sure smile.

He draws her closer, into his arms, bends down, so his lips are surely coming down to swoop onto hers.

But before he does, he pauses, for a second, to breathe into her ear.

"Thank you."

For everything. For writing about such a dull person like me when there's nothing to write about all the time…and I bet most people don't even realize they're always about me. For always sticking by me. For choosing me to go along with your crazy adventures. For allowing me into your rose-colored life.

No "I love you".

No poetic exchange of words.

Just the two of them.

A light drizzle starts to shower down on them, and the notebook is dropped to the ground, forgotten.

All that matters to Eru as she closes her eyes to meet his kiss is the way he, too, smiles just a bit, as he closes the distance between them.

But, instead, on the forehead.

Eru blushes all the same.

They've been dating for nearly two years.

And it's still the most curious mystery how they find a reason to fall in love with each other every single time.