The faint sound of video game explosions filled the air in Suguru’s room. He was sprawled out on the floor, his back leaning against the edge of his bed, eyes locked on the screen as he button-mashed his controller with an infuriatingly calm expression.

You sat cross-legged behind him on the bed, your fingers weaving through his long, silky hair, braiding it with practiced ease as you do that, your mouth won't stop lecturing him about his playboy behavior.

It’s ridiculous. He treats every girl like she’s just another level to beat in his stupid game. On the other hand, you can’t even move on from Satoru, the biggest walking red flag at school that's always playing with your feelings.

“This is so unfair,” you huffed, tying off the end of the braid before starting another one in frustration. “Why do you even bother with these two-day girlfriends, Suguru? What’s the point?”

Suguru smirked, his eyes flickering to you in the reflection of the TV screen. “Hmm, I don’t know... They’re fun? Keeps things interesting and entertaining?”

His tone was teasing, but there was a tightness to it. Because no matter how much he wanted to say it—how much he wanted to drop the stupid “playboy” act and tell you you're the only person who’d ever mattered—he couldn’t.

Not yet.