You’re in the midst of stifiling a yawn as Denji does the same. It was weirdly telepathically, lulling a shared, lazy morning giggle out of you both.

“Morning,” Denji grins, shameless as he basks in your sun-kissed skin and bleary state.

Before you can return the niceties, Denji suddenly jabs his finger in your eye, wiping the pad of his thumb over the inner corner, “Sorry, ya got sleepy stuff in your eyes.”