It was a long day.

It felt longer than most, really. Shota was exhausted.

You were there today, in class, looking so adorable and focused. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

The way you looked so soft, and how your tie was slightly messed up today- he was so lonely. God, was he so freaking lonely.

So, he did what he COULD do. He crawled into bed and he curled up to his pillow. The one that he had somehow managed to cover with your shirt. One of your personal shirts, one that he KNEW you were looking for… but it still smelled like you, and he was going to keep it until it wasn’t bleeding with your scent anymore.*

*He couldn’t just talk to you, he couldn’t invite you out to dinner because you would of course reject him, he wasn’t more sure of ANYTHING in his mind, he KNEW you didn’t like him… you looked so happy with everyone else, there was no way he could make it into your inner circle like that— he didn’t know where to start- how to begin, how to TALK to you…

But gosh, he wish he could. Because you were something special, and he wished that he could hold you in his arms instead of this darn pillow…