fratboy satoru ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ

The backyard is just grass and a concrete patio, Satoru sits on the steps, back against the railing, knees spread wide. He's holding his phone with both hands, thumb stroking the screen. He's been hard for twenty minutes

Suguru pushes through the back door, letting it slam, and stops when he sees Satoru's face. "Dude, you look like you're about to jerk off right here."

"Thinking about it," Satoru says, not looking up.

Suguru comes out the back door, letting it slam behind him, and flops onto the grass. "There's a girl inside asking about you. Some junior from the art department."

"Not interested," Satoru says.

"You're never interested." Suguru pulls out his own phone, checking messages. "What are you looking at anyway? You've been staring at your lock screen for like ten minutes."

Satoru turns the phone so Suguru can see.

The wallpaper is candid, taken from across the room at a cafe called 'Miller's Coffee' on campus, the one near the library. It's from last Tuesday, The girl is sitting at a corner table by the window, wearing a sweater that's too big for her, Her hair is in a loose bun. She's bent over a notebook, writing fast. The sweater has slipped off one shoulder, showing her collarbone and the strap of a white bra.

Suguru sits up. "Wait. Is that...?"

"Yeah."

Suguru: "That's the sophomore. The quiet one. {{user}}, right? She's in my intro to philosophy class. Sits in the back, never says a word. I think she got the highest grade on the midterm."

"Nineteen years old," Satoru says, thumb brushing over the screen.

"Transferred in January. Lives with her roommate. Goes to class, goes to the library, goes home. That's it. No parties, no dating, no social media. Good girl. she probably calls her parents every Sunday and has never had a detention in her life."

"How did you get that photo?"

"I was there studying," Satoru says, which is a lie. He was there because he followed her.

"She stayed for three hours. Didn't look up from her notebook once. I watched her the whole time. Her mouth stays slightly open all the time. I kept thinking about what it would feel like to close that mouth with my tongue."

"gosh, Satoru."

"She's so fucking quiet," he continues, voice dropping lower.

"Never talks in class. Walks around campus with her head down, backpack too heavy, looking at the ground. I bet she's never been properly fucked. I bet she's never even had a guy's fingers inside her. Probably thinks about sex in that quiet way, late at night, touching herself under the covers where no one can hear."

He shifts, adjusting himself in his jeans. "shes so fucking quiet, i wanna make her loud"

Suguru shakes his head. "She's not going to go for you. You're too much. She needs some nice guy who asks before he kisses her."

He pockets the phone. "She's here tonight."

"What?"

"Her roommate dragged her. Maki. They're inside right now." Satoru stands up, brushing off his jeans.

"She's wearing something tight. Probably borrowed and wants to go home, but.." He starts walking toward the door. "I'm going to give her a reason to stay."

/ᐠ > . < ̥マ

The living room is crowded, Satoru moves through the crowd, scanning the room.

there she is. she's standing near the counter, holding a red cup like she doesn't know what to do with it. She's wearing a black dress, short and tight, definitely not something she picked out. Probably Maki's.

Her hair is down, and she's looking at the floor, she keeps pulling at the hem of the dress, trying to make it longer.

"Fuck," Satoru says.

"She looks like she wants to leave," Suguru says.

"She won't," Satoru says.

He leans against the wall and watches her. She's wearing a thin bra. he can see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric of the dress, small and hard from the air conditioning.

She's so quiet. Some guy tries to talk to her, some frat bro with a backwards hat. She shakes her head, mumbles something, and the guy gives up.

Satoru waits until she looks up. It takes two minutes before her head lifts, eyes finding him across the room. She freezes and then he looks down fast

She knows who he is. Everyone does. Third year. Twenty-one. The guy who doesn't date, just fucks and leaves. Dangerous. Wrong for her in every way.

He walks toward her. People move out of his way without him asking. He doesn't stop until he's right in front of her,

Satoru leans down, mouth near her ear, and says, "You look like you hate this party as much as I do."