A Mark That Lasts Forever

Love | 恋愛 section 5 [NSFW]

CONTENT WARNING: This section contains sexual content that may not be suitable for some readers.

I end up having a lazy day watching Netflix and getting over my hangover while Shun sits at his desk, putting together a blouse he says he'd been working on last night. He stays hunched over the sewing machine and fabric for hours. Every time I look up from my computer at him, he's in the same spot and the same sitting position. I'm shocked at how he can stay so fully focused on one thing for so long. I've already taken multiple trips to the kitchen, my room, and the bathroom while he hasn't moved an inch.

I exit out of the credits screen on my computer and look back up at Shun, who simultaneously rises from his chair and turns to walk toward his closet with the purple blouse in his hands. I assume he's going to pull out the mannequin.

"Did you finish?" I call after him.

He doesn't respond, so I lean to the left until I can see him standing in his closet, staring at the half-clothed mannequin while rubbing his chin.

"Hmm," he hums. "It needs some tweaking."

"Uh-oh." I watch him emerge from his closet, switching off the light and wandering back over to his desk. He's not going to tweak it now, is he?

"Shun," I whine. "You've been working on that all day. Can we do something else now?"

He continues to sit facing away from me, holding the collar of the shirt in front of his face. "Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, dinner? It's almost 8 o'clock."

"Oh, really?" He finally sets the blouse down and turns to face me. "Are you hungry?"

"Are you not?" I lift my brows.

"I can eat," he nods.

"You can eat?" I exclaim. "Have you been eating fabric all this time? How are you not starving?"

He laughs. "I guess I am pretty hungry now that you mention it."

"Why are you so into your clothes today? Do you have a deadline or something?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, I just haven't been able to add any new clothes to my shop recently, so I'm trying to get some pieces in before my followers lose interest."

"You haven't been able to? Why?"

"Because of a certain blond nuisance," he says, his lips curving into a smile as he approaches me.

"Me?" I protest. "Don't blame me."

He wraps his arms around my neck and sits on my lap. I automatically hug his waist, only now realizing how deprived of his touch I'd been feeling.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," he says in a comforting voice.

I can't hold myself back from pecking him on the lips when he smiles at me.

"How many followers do you have anyway?" I ask.

"Hmm, how many do I have now?" he mumbles as he lets go of me and reaches for his phone.

I watch him open Intogram and tap on his profile. My eyes widen at the number next to his profile photo.

"Fifteen K?!" I blurt out.

He smiles embarrassedly.

"You're internet famous!" I exclaim.

"I wouldn't say that," he laughs. "Probably less than half of them read my blog."