Michael sat hunched over his desk, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he scribbled furiously into his notebook. His focus was razor-sharp, eyes flicking between his laptop screen and the open textbook beside him.

Meanwhile, you lay sprawled out on his bed, flipping through your phone, letting out a long, dramatic sigh.

It had been hours since he’d last looked at you. Hours.

You had tried to entertain yourself. First by scrolling through social media, then by attempting to read one of the many books stacked haphazardly on his nightstand. But, unsurprisingly, they were filled with complicated words and dense theories, and you’d quickly lost interest.

“Michael,” you whined, stretching your arms above your head like a cat.

“Mm,” he hummed absentmindedly, barely acknowledging you.

“I’m bored.”

“Mm.”

You pouted. That was not the reaction you wanted.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you padded over to his desk and leaned against it, just enough to invade his space. “You’ve been studying forever.”

Michael’s pen stilled. He exhaled through his nose, like he was trying to summon patience from some deep, hidden reserve. “I have a paper due.”

You hummed in response, pressing a quick kiss to his temple before slipping around to sit sideways on his lap.

“Seriously?” he asked, finally pulling his gaze away from his paper to give you an incredulous look.

“What?” you said innocently, plucking the pen from his fingers. “I’ll be quiet. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Michael narrowed his eyes in suspicion but didn’t push you off. You took that as a victory, flashing him a triumphant smile as you turned your attention to the notebook in front of him.

As he begrudgingly resumed reading, you absentmindedly started doodling in the margins of his notes—tiny hearts and stars, little swirls and loops. Eventually, without thinking, you found yourself sketching out both your initials, intertwined in a lopsided heart.

Michael glanced down. “Are you seriously defiling my notes?”