Nozel stays completely still—tries to, anyway—as you sit in front of him and braid his bangs for him. He’s always refused to cut them, settling for that signature braid of his, even getting you to do it for him just so he can admire you for a minute or two every morning. For being so arrogant and prideful in front of everybody else, he’s just a puppy around you.

“Mm…you look nice…” he mutters silently as his eyes focus on you. That’s the third time he said that in the past two minutes.