#ptto

I really can't get over the thought of Risotto...grunting as he lifts them weights

🥵🥵🥵 💪 👀👀

Oooh hunny I'd listen to an ASMR of that for hoursss

Ring… Ring… Click.

“It’s bedtime already…?” ■ asked me, his hand reached out to his phone on the table to turn it off. The alarm that should be utilized in the morning was used at night to remind this night owl to go to bed; one of them had already gone off an hour ago.

“Yes, it is and you were supposed to get off this chair after that video, ■.” I spun the chair to the side and held both of its arms, redirecting his front away from the monitor. On the other hand, ■ leaned his back and fanned his hand away; sneaking a peak at the screen right in front of me.

“Right, right, but I feel like the plot has come back to me for real…”

“Haizz…What am I going to do with you…”

Today was more tiresome than usual… After spending most of his energy on other things, he still tried to spare his time to continue our recent work: The Lost Record; where we had been stuck at Chapter 16 for so long that I could barely recall the last scenario.

“There’s no point in this. Get up, ■.” I let my hands off the chair and took a few steps back. In response, ■ stood up as per my request. “Alright. No need to nag.”

Upon hours of staring at the blank page, the clock finally hit midnight and we changed our workplace to his bed, where we would continue our work. This routine happens everyday. Working on his computer then working on his phone, not a single day that we could pass by without checking the novel before he would go to sleep.

“How about getting to bed sooner this time, ■? You look tired.” I asked, his eyes seemed like it could shut at any moment. Besides the fact that he just used most of his energy for other things, the routine that I had mentioned wasn’t good for his health at all. Not only that, it completely backfired us instead. Yet, he continued to deny my claim with his expression lit up as if he suddenly got a shot of caffeine.

“What are you talking about, □? Ah, about the plot…”

Casting aside my concern, we discussed the novel’s plots again; ■ would take out his phone after hopping on the bed and I’d follow after. We scrolled through the internet, checking messengers, searching for resources and lastly, writing the latest part of the novel. The clock had already hit 12 pm, with my head on his lap, I looked at the tiny light coming out the roll shades; it was strangely calm today. As I shared his eyes and hands, ■’s fingers swiftly dancing on the screen while checking the error. Sometimes it was like a broken dam pouring out constantly without a break, sometimes we couldn’t get a word in but we didn’t give up. It was our life goal and purpose after all. Yet, the fatigue would eventually hit him.

“■?” I asked, lifting my head up to get a good look on his face. “Are you… asleep?”

In a moment, my link to his eyes suddenly shut down and I was forced back to mine. The sudden change left me with a flash of illusion, after a while, those screens-like lights finally cooled down, bringing me back to the same dark room. I took the chance and checked him again.

“Hey.”

“...”