Poe is currently writing a mystery novel for his beloved Ranpo. He smiles to himself and leans against the palm of his hand as he writes, hoping to make it difficult for him to solve. Though he has no doubt it will take less than a second.

The taller scribes away, lost in his own little world. He’s too consumed by his pen and paper to notice said beloved come in. A weight added to his lap is what pulls him out of his trance.

“Ranpo..” he coos softly, wrapping and arms around his waist.