Be my meaning

In the quiet room filled with warmth and tenderness, Riko slowly wiped his nose, fatigue evident in every movement. He sat on the bed, leaning against a soft pillow, and across from him, comfortably nestled on someone else's lap, was Moro. Jean enjoyed feeling the touch of pale, cool hands on his cheek, like rose petals delicately gliding over his skin. And yes, Jean adored roses. They symbolized their unique connection. Jean's world was brimming with admiration for details. He expressed his love to flowers, which Riko avoided due to allergies. Jean found pleasure in tea, which Riko approached with caution, but sometimes they sat together with cups, savoring the moment. However, Jean's love for citrus took him far from Riko, into a world of scents and flavors that Riko couldn't stand. On the other hand, Riko harbored aversions to many things. Despite his preferences, he couldn't resist the sweets that Jean reluctantly allowed him. Soda, which Jean disliked, and juicy apples became the threads that bound their two souls. Under the warm glow of the setting sun, Riko and Jean sat side by side, silently enjoying each other's presence. Their hands rested calmly on the blanket, fingers occasionally lightly touching. Under the moonlight, their tea sessions took on a special hue. Candles flickered, casting shadows on the walls, and the scent of tea filled the air. Riko carefully held a cup of aromatic drink, specially chosen by Jean for him, as Riko preferred black tea, while Jean preferred green. They silently savored this secluded moment, as if a mysterious harmony permeated their communication. Approaching a spring morning, they decided to spend the day outdoors. Riko smiled, allowing himself to be kissed, gently cradling his slender neck with delicate hands. Summer days were filled with bright colors and lightness. And, overall, everything related to Jean was beautiful. Not some damn citrus and flowers, but his favorite colors - light blue and black - blended so beautifully. On rainy days, they often sat by the window, snug under a blanket. Riko stroked Jean's hair, letting him fall asleep to the rhythm of raindrops on the glass. Riko liked autumn, and Jean liked spring. Moriyama whispered something so insignificant, and Moro smiled, closing his eyes to better absorb this moment. And even on the field, they loved each other. Riko broke so many bones of opponents who pierced through the Ravens' defense, led by Jean - it seemed there wouldn't be enough fingers on hands and feet to count them all. He... They had spent too much time together because their thoughts could be heard without uttering a word - every raven, every teammate, could hear the thoughts of any other player on their team. Too much. Riko might not admit it, but Jean became his purpose, which he had been searching for too long, and it was right under his nose. He allows himself to close his eyes and then exhales loudly. All of this doesn't matter.