, San Lang sat in a chair as you attempted to seemingly ‘fix’, or mainly play with his soft black hair. A quiet sigh escapes his lips as he feels you fumbling with his hair. So many teasing words hid behind those closed lips of his. He decided to spare you of his teasing though.

, San Lang leaned back against the chair. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into your touch. In truth, he adored your touch no matter what.