Bad Habits - (Shouto x OC)

Hashtags, Identities, & Fried Chicken

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Lani POV:

It was after dark by the the time Shouto and I returned to my place.

I'll be the first one to say I lost track of time. Once I figured out his niche, so to say, I got to work, snapping picture after picture of him.

It was addicting in a way. Taking his picture, checking them afterwards to make sure they looked okay, focusing on every attractive feature—and, even noticing new things I never did before.

Like, how he always rubs the top of his left hand with his right whenever something makes him nervous. Or, how he looks at the sky when he's lost in thoughts. How his eyes always find mine when he's confused or seeking extra guidance.

It wasn't the act of taking pictures itself, but rather, him that made me lose track of time.

He was photogenic. Attractive. Seeing him in such satisfying images scratched the right part of my brain. The part that couldn't stop looking. The part that craved more.

There wasn't any reason to invite him back to my apartment. Not only have we spent the last two weeks straight together, but I also had more than enough material to head home solo and start putting his social media page together.

But, he never ate dinner—and I didn't either. There was a little fried chicken place down the street from my apartment. I just....you know......figured he deserved a little something nice for a job well done.

Sure, we could have eaten dinner at the chicken place. Public spaces are always less intimate and more friendly. But, it was probably closing soon, and Shouto didn't seem to mind my place when I suggested it.

And, yeah, we could have eaten at my kitchen table on respective, opposite sides, maintaining a sense of professionalism that was already spiraling into the depths of blurred lines and looser boundaries.

But, the progression of sitting next to each other on the floor of my living room just kinda happened. With the leftovers of our dinner pushed aside on the glass coffee table in front of us, and the sides of our heads practically smushed together, looking through all the pictures I took of him on the small screen of my phone.

I put on a little music to keep things fun, hearing it play quietly in the background. Only the dim light from my kitchen was on. All of it felt relaxing. It was the first time Shouto was actually in my apartment. Without the barrier of an office, this felt less like work and more like indulgent fun.

Never a good thing to be friends with your clients. I'm not new to this business, and I know that.

Sure, you want a good relationship with them—but, a working relationship.

And, yet...

Somehow, I couldn't stop myself.

"Oh, oh—look at this one, Shouto." I mused softly of the next picture, hearing the glints of pride in my voice. "You look so handsome here."

I could feel the ends of his hair tickling my cheek as he leaned in closer to see. It was softer than I was expecting, smelling mostly of the park we just spent so much time in. But, remnants of his shampoo still lingered with every other note of scent.

"I do?" He asked, causing me to chuckle with his genuine surprise.

Rotating my body into his, my knees knocked against his outer thigh, leaning my back into the couch behind us that we ironically chose to ignore.

"You do. Everyone's gonna go crazy for it." I grinned, slowly finding his eyes in the dim light. "I say it's about time we get posting, don't you think?"