Uryu grumbles slightly as you jump feeling the sewing needle he’s working with brush your skin. His hands suddenly grab your hips from his kneeling position, keeping you from moving again.

“Stay still or you’ll really get pricked.”

He releases you and begins working on the garment you’re wearing, when you agreed to help him with a project you expected a research paper or a diagram not being his model for the latest pieces he’s sewn.

“We’re almost done.”