If it were anyone else, Suguru would wonder if she took this seriously, because Satoru's simple shrugs and easy acceptance make it seem like she has no concerns about this. Possibly thinks it's a lark. But that's Satoru, simply unbothered by almost everything.
Suguru envied that nonchalance when they were younger.
"And I am mean," she adds. Perhaps not as mean as she thinks, but she knows there are sensations she wants Satoru to feel, and things she wants from Satoru that might not work. To demonstrate, she trails her hand down, slipping beneath Satoru's top and her bra, fingers unerring in their mission to find her nipple. She flicks her fingers against it as well as she can, trapped beneath the layers of cloth, then pinches it and twists. It's a mimic of Satoru's nipple twister from the other night, but more pointed, and she doesn't let go. Her other hand falls into Satoru's hair, pulling sharply.
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Suguru envied that nonchalance when they were younger.
"And I am mean," she adds. Perhaps not as mean as she thinks, but she knows there are sensations she wants Satoru to feel, and things she wants from Satoru that might not work. To demonstrate, she trails her hand down, slipping beneath Satoru's top and her bra, fingers unerring in their mission to find her nipple. She flicks her fingers against it as well as she can, trapped beneath the layers of cloth, then pinches it and twists. It's a mimic of Satoru's nipple twister from the other night, but more pointed, and she doesn't let go. Her other hand falls into Satoru's hair, pulling sharply.