Kanae is cross-legged on the bed across the room, propped up against the headboard, with only the sheets pooled around his waist to protect his modesty.

Not that he seems to care: with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, a comfort even in this state, he sits there calmly and tunes his precious guitar.

Click, click, click.

A few minutes pass in charged silence, punctuated only by the sound of you toying with the upperclassman’s lighter, before you finally muster the courage to glance over at him.

In the same moment, as though prompted by the sudden movement in his peripheral—“Hey, do you mind giving me a light?”—Kanae’s voice breaks the rhythmic monotony, as he abruptly looks up from his guitar.

It’s so sudden that your thumb pauses over the spark wheel.