“Hmm…” He sighed, readjusting his boxers to his waist with a nonchalant air.

Shigaraki returned to his desk with lightning speed, his back hunched over, eyes glued to the game on his screen. His fingers moved in a frenzied dance over the keyboard, oblivious to anything else around him. He didn’t spare even a fleeting glance in your direction. You were left alone on the bed, a jumble of tangled limbs and ragged breaths, your body a canvas of bitemarks and bruises that throbbed with every heartbeat.

You tried to catch your breath, the aftermath of his intense passion leaving you physically and emotionally spent. Your mind struggled to comprehend the whirlwind of sensations that had just coursed through you, yet here he was, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

The room felt heavy with the weight of your unspoken thoughts. It wasn’t that you expected him to dote on you post-coitus, but this casual disregard was something else entirely. You wanted to say something, to demand acknowledgment or perhaps even just a moment of tenderness. But words failed you; your tongue felt heavy, your thoughts muddled.

As minutes stretched into eternity, his relentless clicking on the keyboard echoed in the silence. The rhythmic sound grated against your frayed nerves, a stark contrast to the intimacy you had just shared. You shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to find a position that didn’t accentuate the soreness between your legs or the ache in your chest.

Finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, you cleared your throat, the sound breaking the eerie quiet of the room. “Hey,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a hint of vulnerability in that single word, a plea for some semblance of connection.

Shigaraki’s fingers paused momentarily, hovering over the keys. Slowly, he turned his head to glance at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was inscrutable, betraying nothing of the intensity that had consumed him moments ago. “What?” he asked curtly.