“You love me.”
I winked at him, drawing the words out like a melody.

Johan groaned — audibly — like I’d just given him a headache and a heart attack at the same time.

I smirked wickedly, savoring his reaction, before sauntering into the bedroom.

We were supposed to head to the mall, and then — as Johan mysteriously claimed — a restaurant. He’d been annoyingly cryptic about the whole plan, only saying that we needed to have a proper date. Which, coming from Mr. Stoic-and-Emotionally-Constipated, was already suspicious.

I was halfway through wondering if this “proper date” meant something like candlelight or a tablecloth with actual linen when his voice rang out from the living room:

“Little brat! My wallet’s in the room — can you grab it?”

Rolling my eyes, I called back, “Fine!” and began searching.

Where is it? Where is it?

I checked the desk. Nothing. The nightstand? Just a pile of receipts and… something that looked like a half-dead pen.

Then, jackpot.

“Ha!” I muttered triumphantly under my breath as I spotted the leather wallet peeking out from under his hoodie.

Now, here’s the thing — when a curious human being (and yes, I am human, thank you very much) finds a wallet, human nature demands at least a tiny peek.

So I opened it.

Cards. More cards. A driver’s license photo that looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the universe.

And then… something caught my eye.

“Oh… what’s this?” I murmured, fishing it out with a grin already threatening to take over my face.

I froze for one second, and then I burst into an uncontainable smile.

Ha! Ha! Ha!!! I knew it!

Clutching my prize like it was a treasure, I strutted back into the living room.

“My wallet,” Johan said, hand extended without looking up from his phone.

“Here,” I replied sweetly, placing it in his palm.

He finally looked up — and immediately frowned when he noticed the smug, overly-cheerful grin plastered across my face.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s with the creepy smile?” Suspicion dripped from every word.

I bit my lip, pretending to hesitate, then pulled my hand from behind my back and dangled my discovery between two fingers.

His eyes widened slightly.

It was a sticky note. The very ones I had written and stuck to his lunchbox — the lunchboxes that he had called annoying and said he hated it and still ate everything.

He groaned, tilting his head back like he couldn’t believe his life choices.

My grin widened to villain-level proportions.
“I knew it! I knew you couldn’t resist me. My charm is irresistible, P'Jo. You kept this. Secretly! Like some sort of closet sentimentalist!”

“That was… unintentional,” he muttered, trying to snatch it back.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Ughhhh, you are so annoying,” he said, but the corners of his lips betrayed him — twitching upward into the faintest smile.

I gasped dramatically. “That’s a smile!
So you do agreeeee!!!”

Before I could savor the moment too long, he reached out and pinched my nose, making me squeak.

“Yes,” he said in a mock defeat. “Your charm worked. Happy now?”

“Extremely,” I beamed, leaning in closer. “I’ll be telling our future grandchildren about this.”

“That implies we survive each other long enough to have kids,” he muttered — but the way his hand lingered against my cheek told a different story.

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Please. You’d be lost without me.”

He rolled his eyes, shoving the wallet into his pocket. “Come on, lil brat. We’re going to be late.”

But as we headed for the door, I caught him glancing at that little folded sticky note in his hand before tucking it back in his wallet.

Iceberg? Yeah, right. More like a marshmallow in disguise.

✿✿✿

We drifted through the mall, Johan walking like he had all the time in the world while I floated from store to store, pointing at random things and asking if he’d buy them for me.

“That hoodie looks cute on me, right?” I asked, holding it against myself.

“You already have three like it,” he said without looking.

“But this one’s different. The pocket is… slightly bigger.”

“Put it back, lil brat.”

I gasped dramatically. “Your mum will hear about this.”

That made him smirk just enough for me to catch it before he smoothed it away. “She’d probably tell me not to spoil you.”

“She would not! She literally told me last time that I’m the sunshine in your boring life.”

His steps slowed just a fraction,“…She said that?”

“Yep. And now you’re just proving her right. Look at you — walking around with your grumpy face like you’re guarding a national treasure. Which, to be fair, you are. Me.”

That earned me a low chuckle and him muttering something under his breath while shaking his head.

We bickered a little, well mostly me and then finally made our way to the restaurant.

When we reached the restaurant, I realized instantly this wasn’t just a regular dinner stop.
It wasn’t the kind of place where you point at a menu board and hope the meat is actually meat.

This was fancy. Dim golden lighting. Soft piano drifting in the background. Tables spaced far apart like everyone here was allergic to noise.

“P'Johan,” I whispered as we walked in, “this is fancy fancy.”

“That’s the point,” he replied, completely deadpan, as if he hadn’t just brought me into somewhere that probably charged extra for breathing their air.

The host led us to a small corner table. It was secluded, almost intimate, with a single candle flickering between us and two glasses already waiting. The white tablecloth looked so clean I was afraid to touch it.

“You’re sure this is for us?” I teased as we sat down. “You didn’t accidentally book this for a business meeting with your father?”

His only answer was a flat look — but there was the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

We ordered, and while we waited, I kept stealing glances at him. Something about him was… different tonight. He wasn’t scrolling on his phone. He wasn’t impatiently tapping his fingers. He was just watching me with that calm, unreadable expression — which, for Johan, was suspicious in itself.

Dinner arrived — slow, elegant courses that I devoured like I hadn’t eaten in weeks, earning a quiet head shake from him.
We argued over who would get the last bite of dessert until I shamelessly forked it for myself, grinning in victory.

And then… he sat back. Straightened. His hands folded loosely on the table.

“North,” he began, his voice low but steady, “I know… last time I didn’t ask you properly to be my boyfriend.”

I blinked. My fork froze halfway to my mouth. “W-what?”

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “I wanted to do it better. Something you’d remember.”

My heart was already doing stupid backflips, but before I could respond, he reached into his jacket pocket.

A small, velvet box hit the candlelight.

I gasped. “Johan… are you—?”

He opened it slowly. Inside sat two simple silver rings — sleek, understated, but the kind that made my chest ache just looking at them.

“They’re not flashy,” he said, like he needed to justify it, “but they’re… us. I thought… if you wanted… we could—”

I didn’t even let him finish. My hand flew to my mouth, and I could feel the tears already threatening to spill over.

“You’re giving me couple rings?” My voice cracked halfway through.

He looked faintly uncomfortable, like he’d just confessed to a crime. “Yes. If you want them.”

I laughed through the lump in my throat, wiping at my eyes. “How did this iceberg of a man get this cheesy?”

His lips curved just slightly. “Maybe the little brat I’m dating rubbed off on me.”

“You’re dating me?” I teased weakly, still trying not to cry. “I haven’t even answered yet.”

He arched a brow, sliding the box closer to me. “Then answer.”

My chest felt too small for my heart. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, you idiot.”

The smallest, warmest smile spread across his face — unguarded, real. He took one ring and slipped it onto my finger, his hand warm against mine. I took the other and slid it onto his, my fingers lingering just a little too long.

We stayed like that for a moment, our hands resting together in the candlelight, my tears still blurring the edges of him.

“You’re ridiculous,” I sniffled.

“I am in love,” he replied quietly.

I glanced down at our rings. Simple silver, nothing extravagant, but somehow heavier than gold. I could almost picture him — P'Johan, of all people — standing in a jewelry shop, sifting through options with that same unreadable expression, pretending it wasn’t a big deal while secretly making sure they were perfect.

I bit back another wave of tears. “You know,” I said, my voice wobbling but my grin sneaking back in, “if you keep this up, I’m going to start expecting flowers. Candlelight dinners. Maybe even… matching shirts.”

“Don’t push your luck.” His tone was flat, but there was a faint curve to his lips that he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“Too late,” I whispered, still staring at our joined hands. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His eyes held mine for a long moment before he smiled back, “I know.”

And that — that quiet certainty — melted me faster than any cheesy speech could.

_______________

Author's note-

Well technically north did win the dare 🩷