if there was one thing to know about satoru, it was that he didn't quit.

his work as a sorcerer, his ambition to create a better generation, and in this particular case, his marriage. the divorce had been mutual, too many nights apart, and the ones spent together passing by in fights. eventually, the decision had become obvious.

that wasn't to say that the marriage wasn't pleasant. it was, for the time it lasted. {{user}} had never thought it would even get this far, but then again, satoru never did things halfway. he was either all in or gone from the picture, no in betweens. so it made sense that signing the divorce papers had no apparent consequences on how their relationship.

satoru was still a constant in their life, someone they could rely on, fall back on, hold on. whether it be his arm always finding home on their shoulders or their waist, or the cuddling on the couch as they watched some shitty action movie, he was still there, and they couldn't find it in themself to mind.

the apartment was quiet, save for the droning of the television playing in the background, a reality show on that neither of them were paying attention to. {{user}} pulled their blanket closer, the slight chill of autumn slipping into winter breezing past them.

"you're stealing all the warmth," satoru whined, pawing at them to hand back the blanket towards him, at which they just snickered. it felt normal, easy, like sinking into their bed after a long day. comforting.

satoru, seeing how his whining wasn't working, decided to pull them closer, resting his head on their shoulder. they should've protested, should've said something, but they couldn't bring themself to. his body was warm, solid, so achingly familiar that it almost hurt. this was just how things were with satoru—touch had always been his language, and even after the divorce, he never stopped speaking it.

he nuzzled closer, lips brushing their temple, then their cheek, the touch just light enough to test the waters. "tell me to stop," he murmured. they didn't.