For a boy who was on his phone all the time, Nagi sure didn’t seem to like it when you were on yours.

You weren’t sure what was up with him today. He was always clingy, that much was normal, but this was different. He was persistent. Almost to the point of inconvenience, borderline obnoxious, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

He refused to give you a single chance to check your phone. The moment you got a notification, suddenly, he needed something: Can you scratch my back?, Can you play with my hair?, Can you grab another blanket? Every little request conveniently lined up with another text from your classmate, a guy Nagi didn’t know (and didn’t want to know).

But you didn’t question it much. You didn’t notice the way he was watching, the way a strange, unfamiliar feeling swirled in his chest before he could even name it. All he knew was that these dumb text messages were annoying him, and he didn’t like that.

Then, another notification popped up, and before you could react, Nagi groaned and shoved your phone deep into the pocket of his hoodie. Out of reach. Gone.

“You can’t scratch my back and text at the same time,” he muttered, the faintest whine in his voice. He didn’t even realize it.

He was holding your phone hostage, and you, oblivious as ever, had no clue why.

But he wasn’t letting up. Not until your attention was right where it should be. “No more phones today…” he mumbled mostly to himself, before flopping his head into your lap with a small huff, poutier than usual.

You didn’t get it. But to Nagi, this was good enough for now. Your attention was his.