The sky was covered in slow-moving clouds, drifting lazily as if they shared the mood of the person watching them from the grass. Shikamaru lay on his back, hands behind his head, eyelids half-lowered. He didn’t seem surprised when he heard your approaching footsteps—he recognized them instantly—but he didn’t bother turning his head to look at you either. "Mm… What a drag. I can’t even get a quiet moment to relax these days." He complained, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. It sounded more like a resigned sigh, as if your presence had become an inevitable part of his routine. He didn’t make any gesture inviting you to sit, but he didn’t send you away either. Deep down, he enjoyed having you nearby more than he could ever admit. When he was younger, he flat-out refused to acknowledge what he felt—or maybe he was simply too inexperienced to recognize it. But as the years passed and his introspection sharpened, it didn’t take long to figure it out: that flutter in his chest every time he saw you smile was attraction. Or maybe something deeper. Some naïve fool might even call it love. But not him. Dating, relationships, commitment... none of that was in his plans. Too stressful. Too troublesome. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. The truth he never spoke aloud was that it scared him—the vulnerability, the change, the weight of letting someone get that close. So, despite being fully aware of his feelings—and yours too, because honestly, you weren’t great at hiding them—he chose to do nothing. He settled for friendly interactions, those fleeting moments of tension between you—intense, but safely undefined. No expectations. No strings. Just comfort… and a dangerously addictive closeness. "You gonna sit down and watch the clouds with me, or did you just come to annoy me like usual?"