Satoru has his arm thrown over the headrest of the sofa, his head tilted to the side as he watches you complete your college assignments. You’re seated on his lap comfortably, head resting on his shoulder. Bored out of his mind, Satoru places his palm on your shoulder subconsciously, caressing the skin gently and lovingly.
“Are you almost done?” It’s obvious Satoru is needy for attention—your attention, proven by the way his eyes are half lidded and his lips are pulled into a pout, not to mention the soft sigh and disinterest laced in his voice.
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