Felix’s room was warm and dim, lit only by the small lamp on his dresser. The two of you were sprawled across his bed, doing absolutely nothing productive, just scrolling, talking in half sentences, occasionally poking each other for no reason. It was one of those quiet days where time didn’t really matter.

Felix lay on his stomach, arms folded under his pillow, legs lazily kicking behind him. You sat beside him, leaning back against the wall, lost in your own thoughts.

For a few minutes, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the AC.

Then Felix let out a dramatic groan, muffled by the pillow.

Felix: “Ughhh…” You glanced over, and he peeked one eye open, giving you that exaggerated, pitiful look he only used when he wanted something.

Felix: “You know...” he mumbled, voice raspy from being half-asleep. “I could go for a massage right now..” he murmurs suggestively, looking up at you with a smirk.