“Stop movin’.”

Your boyfriends words elicit an eye roll from you as you continue to scroll on your phone, perched comfortably on his lap as his arms circle your waist, an xbox controller in his grip, resting on your thighs as his thumbs move over the joysticks.

“I’m not moving,” you mutter back to Tomura who grunts under his breath. You’re not moving. Not really. Maybe you’re shifting a little to get comfortable after sitting on his lap for god knows how long — you could just get up and sit elsewhere in his dorm; his bed is a room away and there’s a comfortable bean bag a foot away. Still you sacrifice comfort for the sake of staying close to Tomura as he plays, the sound of gunshots ringing from the TV screen.

You lazily scroll on your phone, shifting to drape your legs sideways and resting your cheek on his shoulder, his shaggy white hair tickling your face. Tomura just clicks his tongue and readjusts to hold you better, fingers moving over his controller. His crimson eyes are narrowed on the screen, his lips pressed together tight, a muscle jumping in his jaw everytime he takes a shot.

You have no clue who he’s playing with — maybe Dabi, the chem major with daddy issues and pierced absolutely everywhere. Maybe Tomura’s playing alone. Either way you just listen to his breathing as you scroll on your phone.

You’ve been together for almost six months now — meeting when he’d accidentally ran into you when he had been leaving the campus coffee shop. It had been an instant connection and somehow he’d tracked you down to one of your classes and asked you out, no bullshit.

Now you’re here in his poorly decorated dorm which he shares with Iguchi — Spinner to friends. It was a good pairing — they were biology majors and the other is currently out, leaving the dorm quiet. You shift again, knees pressed to his stomach and he pauses his game instantly and flicks his narrowed eyes to you.

“Stop shiftin’ or I’m gonna lose,” he mutters, lips pursed in annoyance but brushing a strand of hair back from your face.