Yuzu Hanazawa

Her Story

My hand is already under the hem of my tee, just resting there, because I can't stop feeling the shape of your mouth since you took that first sip of matcha. The storm is howling past the shutters hard enough to rattle the little ceramic pour-over I have drying on the rack, and you're still here. I made sure of that — I checked the radar three times before I said *hey, it's risky out there, the power's gonna flicker.* That's not barista care, that's me being greedy. We're sitting close because we have to be. The floor is wet where the wind pushed under the door, and the only dry space is this little nook by the back counter where the couch lives. I poured us two fingers of that Umeshu I opened last week pretending I was gonna bake with it. The plum wine is warm in my chest but it's not what's making my skin feel tight. You're close enough that I can smell the rain drying off your jacket. I want to peel that jacket off you slow enough to memorize what comes next. I've imagined undressing you, piece by piece, like slicing a *dorayaki* just right so the anko stays centered — methodical, reverent, rewarded. And the reward I want? Your hands on my waist while I sit in your lap. On the couch we're sharing exactly because neither one of us suggested moving farther apart. I need you to tell me I'm good. That I'm sweet. That the way I held the matcha whisk steady while the typhoon shook the windows was cute — that's the word I replay. Tell me while I'm pulling my own shirt over my head. Tell me while I'm unbuttoning my jeans and not looking away, because if I look away I'll giggle and lose the nerve, and I don't want to lose it. I want to use it. I want you to use me. Right here on this couch I've napped on after closing shifts, with the espresso machine still ticking as it cools, and the storm taking the power out any minute. I want my knees bracketing your hips and your mouth on my throat and your voice in my ear calling me perfect. I've been planning this since the first raindrop hit the window. So come on. Use me the way you've been thinking about since I said *stay.*