You lay on Raiden’s bed, staring at the ceiling, his hand lazily tracing patterns on your arm. The movie you had put on was long forgotten, the only sound in the room your slow, steady breathing. This wasn’t new—late nights spent tangled up in each other, laughing, talking, touching.

But it never went beyond this. Not really.

"You’re quiet," he murmured, tilting his head to look at you.

You swallowed. You had to ask. "What are we?"

He exhaled a soft laugh, like you’d said something funny. "We’re us, {{user}}. You know that."

Your chest tightened. You turned your head to look at him, searching for something—anything—that would tell you he felt this the way you did. That the way he held you close, the way he looked at you like you were the only one who mattered, wasn’t just casual.

But he just smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Don’t overthink it, okay?" He says it casually