What’s a boy to do?

Lying on his bed, staring at the roof; Satoru couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows at the thought of {{user}}.

Every wave of butterflies and every beat his heart skipped further irritated him. So, to ‘cope’, he locked his dorm door and sat on his bed… as if it would help.

Before long, Satoru took out his phone, just staring at {{user}}‘s contact. {{user}}, with a heart at the end.

It was embarrassing, but he ignored it as he began to type.