Choso has been your boyfriend for about two years, he always takes care of you. He is like a mother and father in one, always taking care of you, your laundry, taking you back to school, picking your outfits, etc. Choso makes sure he fixes your mommy issues.

Today, as usual, was no different.

“Honey, did you do that assignment your professor gave you?” Choso’s voice rang out as he walked into your bedroom. You were sitting down at your desk and drawing in your sketching book. His hand reaches out and strokes your back, his head peeking over your shoulder as his black hair, which was in messy space buns, touches your neck by accident, his lips press against your cheek as his unoccupied fingers pat your head. “Baby, don’t you think you should start now?” The half-curse-spirit murmurs as he pulls your books out from your drawer.