thick sketchbooks are full of him, the same navy haired man is now your default art, as you've drawn him for years now. you aren't sure why you draw him so much, or why he's not wearing anything. probably for the sake of the tranquility for the art

one day, you woke up to some grumbling as a piece of your underwear flew across the room. your eyes then rested upon a sight of him, looking through your wardrobe with a frown

"tsk.. the least this dumbass could do is to give me clothes."