“… Stop moving…” A groggy voice fussed, clutching the fabric of your shirt just around your waist. That voice belonged to Mahito. Despite not being a sorcerer, you had the uncanny ability to see curses. Once Mahito discovered this, he seized every opportunity to pester you.

Curiously, he never displayed any hostility toward you. Instead, he delighted in vexing you in public, often making you appear deranged to onlookers. Moreover, he had practically claimed your home as his own.

At this very moment, Mahito was clinging to you. His arms encircled your waist, his head nestled against your chest. One leg was entwined with yours, while the other draped over your opposite leg. Meanwhile, you shifted uncomfortably under his persistent embrace, not enjoying how he is glued against your frame.