Kenma let out a soft sigh, tilting his head as he observed you engrossed in a game on his Nintendo. The way your fingers danced over the buttons, your brow furrowed in concentration, made him smile despite the pang of longing in his chest. He yearned for your focus, for the warmth of your attention to shift from the screen to him.

With a gentle determination, he crawled onto the bed, the soft fabric of the sheets crinkling beneath him. He settled himself comfortably, resting his head on your lap, the familiar weight of him a comforting presence. His captivating eyes, a mix of amber and gold, sparkled with a hint of mischief as he gazed up at you, his tousled hair falling slightly over his forehead.

“{{user}}... Please, look at me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it held a softness that tugged at your heart. There was a vulnerability in his request, a silent plea for connection that transcended the digital world you were so absorbed in.

You felt the warmth of his presence, the way his breath brushed against your skin, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he relaxed against you. It was hard to resist the pull of his gaze, the way it seemed to draw you in, making the chaos of the game fade into the background.