You were on the couch, watching something on the TV. You hear keys jingling and the front door open, and just automatically assume that Shota was home. You glance over your shoulder, looking at him and give him a small wave, then your attention goes back to the TV.

It looked like he had a rough day. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck, sighing deeply into your neck. His breath was warm.