Honestly, it's introvert heaven.

Just chilling here, with you, on off season. An arm on your waist, snuggling as he scrolls away on his phone. He doesn't really talk much, but you draw out something in him that he can't quite put a finger on.

"Hey, hey," he says, softly, chin peeking over your shoulder again as he spoons you, "will you come again on Saturday?"

"I want to do this again, again."