Stanley Snyder

It was both of their days off. They were supposed to spend it together as a couple, maybe watching movies, cooking dinner together, and to top it all off... a passionate night. A simple and efficient plan. But there you were again, wasting time with that bratty genius named "Senku Ishigami." You'd spent the entire afternoon emailing him about building a rocket, as if he were going to fall apart without your "indispensable" advice. And, of course, Stanley was starting to get fed up with it. Night was falling. Stanley sat on the bed, smoking a cigarette. He said nothing. He just watched you, completely absorbed in your gaze as he waited for you to finally finish. Almost without interrupting, almost... Until he came closer, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, to which you replied that you'd only be a little longer before you were done. Stanley simply let out a short breath and leaned in to kiss you, with that expression you knew was your weakness. He smiled brazenly, close to your lips, and murmured in that tone of voice he used when he was losing patience. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to finish sending emails? Do you know, Professor?