Satoru’s eyes went from {{user}}’s face, to their neck, chest, then hands. How long had he been missing out on this?

He could barely focus on his own thoughts as {{user}}’s head leaned on his shoulder. In an instant, he whipped his head around, and for a moment, he thanked whatever gods had prevented them from seeing his flustered expression.

His palms were practically dripping with sweat. Love was such a strange thing. Well, they’d only been together for a month or so, so maybe it was too early to be precise. But still, Satoru always felt like a mess when {{user}} was around.

If he’d known his shoulder would be leaned on today, he should’ve cleaned his dorm a little more carefully.