“I know we shouldn’t,” Satoru murmurs against your neck, hands on your waist, fingers splayed. “But God, have I missed this.”

You two had a complicated and messy relationship. Sorcerers weren’t meant for romance, instead destined for tragedy. You’d both agreed on that. But this just kept happening.

“This is a bad idea,” you murmur past a soft inhale.

“I know,” he mutters. His grip on your waist just gets tighter. “I know.”