Bad Habits - (Shouto x OC)

Shouto TodoRIZZki

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Lani POV:

I tapped my chopstick rapidly against the table, mulling over the past 24 hours like they were the only thing I knew.

My mind has been drifting all day long, and I certainly love to put myself in interesting situations.

Shouto had his dinner with the ex-girlfriend last night, and the thoughts of it have been driving me crazy.

I want to know how it went. The image of him going to his beautiful girlfriend's house was enough to burn itself into my mind for the duration of last night—and this morning. Shouto told me their relationship was always out of obligation for their quirks, but the fact he showed up to her place at all when they're supposedly broken up must mean something, right?

What did they talk about? What did he think after not seeing her for a month? That's a long time. Did they hold hands? Kiss?

....get back together?

A person can always say one thing, but it doesn't mean that's how they truly feel. Maybe Shouto really does have feelings for her, but didn't feel comfortable sharing that part of his life with me. I wouldn't blame him if that's how he felt.

I'm just his publicist after all.

Of course, after the shit I pulled on him the other day, I certainly didn't feel like just his publicist.

Memories of a few nights ago had my skin feeling hot and my stomach feeling heavy. Sleeping with him—I mean—falling asleep with him? What the hell was that about....

I know better—I definitely know better. I'm not new to this job and I always know the importance of never crossing boundaries with a client.

That's when things either start to sour, or decisions start being made based on emotion instead of what's actually good for success.

But...

Shouto was warm. Perfectly warm.

For a man whose so cold in personality, it should be illegal for him to be so warm in touch. So comforting and safe.

I felt my fingers running over my bottom lip distractedly as my brain melted back into the memories all over again, inhaling deeply at the phantom touch of his body against mine.

It's annoying, I can't get him out of my head. No matter how hard I keep trying to...

He'd let out these little sighs in his sleep, holding just a hint of his voice but mostly his breath. God, it was—one could have mistaken those sounds for something else. They were always short and subtle, but higher in pitch. Sometimes, a little more drawn out if he was really deep in his sleep.

Did he know how touchy he was during that moment? He probably didn't, but I couldn't forget. His hands were awake even if his brain wasn't, running along my back, and my hips, and my stomach so freely. Like he'd done so a million times. Like he'd wanted to do so when he was awake and no longer held conscious restraint.

Those sounds would fall from his mouth just a little more whenever he touched me, squeezing whatever body part he had in his grip and nuzzling instinctively closer. It's the most affection I'd gotten from him so far, and already I'm hopelessly addicted.

At one point, his head buried into the crook of my neck and it felt incredible. His hair tickled me and his lips grazed my skin, dewy hot breath rolling onto my sweet spot and making me melt into the floor.

My brain never felt so mushy, and stimulated, and just wanting of more. It simultaneously excited me and lulled me deeper into sleep. But, how is such a thing possible?