You and Bokuto had been paired up for an upcoming school project, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he invited you over to his house to get started. He’d promised he’d be quick with a shower, leaving you in his room while you spread out your notes and began sorting through the assignment.

It was quiet, except for the scribbling of your pen and the occasional rustle of papers. You were focused, lost in your work—until the door creaked open again.

Bokuto walked in, dressed in a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still damp and tousled from the shower. A towel hung loosely in one hand as he ran it through his hair with little care. The soft scent of his shampoo lingered faintly in the air.

He plopped down across from you on the floor, resting his elbows on his knees. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—just watched you with that signature grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Ya look really pretty when you’re focused,” he said, his voice light but undeniably sincere.

His eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something softer underneath—like he really meant it.

He leaned back slightly, still smiling. “It’d be great to see ya more often at my house, y’know?”