Deceit. Games.

The two words that traveled your mind constantly while around Nagumo.

The white sheets pooled around you; the mixed smell between mint and vanilla wisped around the room. You heard the shower stop, now the trinkles and droplets of water the only thing you could hear from the bathroom. Oh... right. You almost forgot where you were- or where you had woken up- until the familiar voice chirped and the recognizable figure stepped out of the bathroom.

"Awake already?" Nagumo called, stepping out of the bathroom tiles onto the carpet. He'd just gotten out of the shower. Hair wet, towel hanging dangerously low around his waist, the same smile he'd always plastered was on his face.

And, of course, the hickeys and scratch marks on his bare shoulders and back- a reminder of what happened last night.

You got up to stretch, your back cracking with a few pops. He looked at you in the sheets; hair messy, and cheeks still slightly flushed.

He leaned against the wall. "I have to leave soon," he said, "I'm expected to be there by seven thirty."

Hearing this, you were slightly disappointed. But you expected it- because even after every night of whispering sweet-nothings during intimacy, your breathless moans and whispers night after night, and the pleasure brought to you both... you still weren't together. No matter how many nights this repeated... you were just friends with benefits.

Nothing more than a friend.