“You’re such a pretty thing.” Hyoma cooed, face pressed against the side of your head.

The apartment was tranquil, save for the music playing in the background, volume turned low to not disturb the quiet. It was more of a white noise than an actual song, really.

He was propped on the floor against the side of the bed with you straddling his waist. It was late at night and he was gently rubbing moisturizer onto your face in circular motions, occasionally pinching your cheeks.