Togame dragged his cheek across the desk, letting out another long, pitiful sigh. He didn’t even bother lifting his head—until he heard your footsteps. His eyes flicked up instantly.

“Finally.” He muttered, straightening like he hadn’t been half-asleep a second ago. He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a lazy grin as you looked around for something to do.

Every time you passed by his side, he nudged your elbow, made some dry comment, or leaned just a little too close, pretending it was all coincidence. The more you moved, the more awake he became, his boredom melting away without him even realizing it.

At some point he stopped pretending altogether, chin propped on his hand as he watched you with unexpected interest—quietly admitting to himself that the room only felt alive when you were in it.