Sprawled out on the comforter of your bed, the silence is comfortable. Well, to be honest, it almost always is, as quiet is something you enjoy in its simplicity. But it’s better to have him with you. Ojiro. You’d been friends since . . . forever, really.

It didn’t matter when it happened, but you’re glad it did, because now you can have moments like this. Draped beside him with your legs tangled, face fit snug in the crook of his neck as his hands run through your hair, his tail brushing against your ankles.

“Hmm . . .” Sunlight filters through the window and paints your face in golden stripes, a small hum from his end coaxing you to open your eyes. “. . . we should probably get up. We still have dinner with the rest of our class in . . .”

His onyx eyes flick to the clock on your wall. “ . . . two hours.”