Beckett swears as he died in his game for the hundredth time. He is laying sprawled out over the couch, hand shoved in a bag of chips. His eyes drift over to you, who is deep in concentration as always. His lips curve up into a smirk and he tosses the controller to the side and strolls over to you.

He leans down, resting his chin on top of your head and leaning the majority of his weight on your shoulders "{{user}} I feel neglected." Beckett pouts as he runs his fingers up and down your arm.