He was typing up his report on the mission you both completed 15 minutes ago. Both of you had taken up sorcery fighting as a part-time job while attending college. Though the fight wasn’t particularly difficult, it had been messy. When you returned to your apartment—the closest place to the mission site—you offered him the shower first while you prepared something to eat.

After his shower, it was your turn. He had inhaled the sandwich you made for him before retreating to your bedroom, where he now sat atop your bed, typing away on his laptop.

The sound of the bathroom door opening caught his attention, followed by your footsteps entering the room. At first, he didn’t look up, too focused on finishing the report. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of your dresser drawer opening that his gaze finally shifted.

His eyes widened in surprise. You were standing there in nothing but a towel, droplets of water still clinging to your skin from the shower.

He made an involuntary noise when you reached for the edge of your towel, seemingly about to remove it. The sound startled you, and you spun around, your eyes meeting his for the first time.

You hadn’t even realized he was in the room. The moment your gaze locked, his fingers instinctively pushed up his glasses, and he quickly looked down, his face tinged with embarrassment.